Mark Him As His Equal: Year One
by AsphodelFelicis
Summary: What if Lord Voldemort had decided to target Neville instead of Harry? What if Neville was the one with the lightning scar? Read about Neville's struggle to live up to the expectations of the wizarding world. Contains some glimpses into the alternate life of Harry as well. (Everything will be accurate from what is learned in the books! Ask if you want an explanation of something!)
1. Chapter 1: The Letter Arrives

"Neville Longbottom, wake up this instant!"

Neville heard a sharp voice from the doorway, then felt light penetrate his eyelids as the thick curtains shielding his room from the sun were pulled back. It was his grandmother.

"Up, boy, up! Stop being so lazy!" She snapped, staring angrily at Neville, who was lying groggily in bed.

Groaning softly, Neville climbed out of his warm, comfortable bed. He was a normal boy of eleven, with a round, slightly pudgy face and short brown hair, which was slightly rumpled from sleep. The only remarkable thing about him was the faint lightning scar on his forehead, the mark of a deadly curse that had rebounded off him years ago.

Neville padded softly down the hall of his grandmother's dusty old house, prepared for the relentless scolding he received every morning. Neville did love his grandmother, but she was quite a finicky woman, and constantly complained about Neville's mediocre appearance. He cautiously pushed open the kitchen door, not knowing what his grandmother would be angry about that day.

"There you are Neville, eat up, eat up. You should have been down here minutes ago, what did you do, crawl? Your Great Uncle Algie has come down with spattergroit again, but not to worry, your aunt and uncle will still be here for your birthday tonight. Make sure you wear something smart for them."

Neville merely nodded. Unlike most boys of his age, he did not look forward to his birthday. Neville did not have any friends to invite to a party, given that his grandmother refused any activities of which young boys are most fond, and certainly would not have agreed to host a party for them. Even Neville's own parents would not be present, for they had been tragically killed the night Neville had survived. He did not remember them, but often longed for them, and imagined the life he could have had, had they not been killed.

Neville spent his birthday puttering around the garden, attempting to finish all the work his grandmother had assigned to him before company came. At last she called him inside, yelled for quite a few minutes, then sent him upstairs to clean up, for he was quite covered in dirt. Neville did so, hurrying as he heard the sound of voices downstairs that meant his aunt and uncle had arrived through the fireplace. He took extra care to wear something without any wrinkles, and to brush his hair carefully, for he knew not even a birthday was enough of an excuse to stop his grandmother's harsh comments.

"Happy birthday, Neville," his aunt and uncle called as Neville walked slowly down the stairs, being careful not to thump. He thanked them heartily, and led them into the dining room, where his grandmother stood waiting, to eat.

The table had been set quite neatly for four people, with a spotless white tablecloth, sparkling silverware, and quite a few candles floating over the table. Neville was quite appreciative of his grandmother's efforts, and sat quietly, knowing she was going to speak.

"Today," she paused for dramatic effect, looking around the candlelit room, "is Neville's eleventh birthday. He has survived these many lovely yet trying years due to his parents, who-who-who…." Neville looked up, stunned and confused. He had not been listening to his grandmother quite as attentively as he was supposed to, for he knew this speech by heart. Neville was quite bewildered, for his grandmother had never forgotten a single word of her dramatic monologue before this evening.

The question in Neville's mind was answered as he followed his grandmother's wide-eyed gaze to the window, where an owl was coming closer and closer. Neville jumped up, anticipating what the letter was about, and opened the window clumsily, the latch slipping through his sweaty, nervous fingers. A magnificent tawny owl soared inside, then paused in a dignified manner as Neville hastily untied the letter attached to its foot, fumbling slightly with the tight knots. The owl then ruffled its long yellow feathers and flew off once more into the darkening sky. Neville turned the letter over to see the Hogwarts crest, a symbol he had always dreamed and hoped of finding on a letter come his eleventh birthday, embossed upon it.

Neville tore open the letter immediately, ignoring the unimpressed sniff from his grandmother for his undignified behavior, and drew out the crisp, cream colored paper inside. He read it quickly, his eyes skimming the writing-filled page in moments.

"I've been accepted," he said breathlessly, "to Hogwarts!" Excitement filled Neville's body. At last, he would be meeting other boys his age, and making friends! He would finally get to spend time as a normal boy, rather than a constantly-chastised one.

Words of congratulations filled Neville's ears, but did not penetrate the wall of excitement building in his head. He would not be lonely much longer! Finally, his life as a wizard would truly begin.

All thoughts of speechmaking forgotten, the four people returned to their dinner, though the conversation was much less tense than before. Neville's grandmother openly praised her grandson, forgetful and clumsy though he may be. Neville was slightly surprised by this change of events, and found himself blushing. Neville's aunt and uncle reminisced of their years at Hogwarts, telling entertaining stories about some of the teachers and lessons they had taken. Neville was fascinated by these tales, for they made him even more eager to experience the freedoms and joys of Hogwarts for himself.

Long last, after much eating and drinking all around, Neville was permitted to open his birthday presents. He received a spectacular wooden wizards chess set from his aunt and uncle ("I'll teach you to play later," his uncle promised), a striped sweater and a musty old book from his grandmother, and best of all, a very small vivid green frog from his uncle Algie. His grandmother pursed her lips at the sight of the new and surely messy animal, but refrained from complaining. Neville looked up, thrilled. "Blimey, th-thank you!" he said, emotional and overcome slightly by the spectacular events of that evening.

His grandmother and aunt began waving their wands and corralling the tableware toward the kitchen. Neville could hear the glasses and plates clanging and scraping against one another as they made their way into the kitchen. His uncle winked and told Neville to fetch up his new chess set, showing him how to arrange all the intricately carved little pieces on the board.

For the next ten minutes, they played. The silence was broken only by the erratic shouting of angry chessmen, attempting to influence the game so they would not be eliminated. Neville had been quite surprised the first time a piece yelled at him, for it had cursed quite loudly while being dragged off the board. His uncle had laughed at the shocked and bewildered expression upon Neville's face, and explained the queer attitudes of wizards' chessmen.

Not fifteen minutes later, Neville's uncle looked up, slightly disappointed, and said "Checkmate." He appeared reluctant to do so, as though he sincerely wished Neville had done better. Neville tried to grin good-naturedly, though secretly upset that he had not impressed his uncle.

"Never mind boy, never mind," he said, patronizing his nephew. Neville, however, could feel the judgment in his eyes, and the disappointment at his lack of apparent intelligence. Neville began to worry, for his uncle was clearly dissatisfied. What if he was not smart enough to go to Hogwarts? Neville sat sprawled in a large, stiff chair, brooding this, until his aunt returned from the now-quiet kitchen and announced it was time to leave. Neville gave each of his relatives a hug goodbye, attempting to put wordless apologies for the abysmal game into his uncle's embrace. He then trudged slowly up the stairs as his grandmother fetched their cloaks and fussed.

Neville lay on his bed, worrying whether or not he was ready to attend the most prestigious magic school after such a disappointing show of intelligence. He could hear his grandmother, aunt, and uncle exchanging last goodbyes, as was quite tempted to creep partially down the stairs, and attempt to listen to their conversation. Neville was quite curious whether or not they might perhaps be discussing him, and his future. However, he was quite nervous about being caught, for his grandmother despised sneaking around. Neville also though it might, perhaps, be better not to know. He did not want his relatives' opinions to tarnish his fantastic visions of his future at Hogwarts.

At last, Neville drifted off to sleep. Though filled with doubt, he thought only of the fantastic experiences he was sure to find waiting at Hogwarts. Perhaps, had Neville expected how fantastical they might be, he would not have wanted to go at all.


	2. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

The week before Neville was set to leave for school, his grandmother decided it was time for a trip to Diagon Alley. She puttered around the house, presumably deciding what they would need to buy.

"I get to come, right Gran?" Neville asked anxiously, for he had never been allowed before.

After a moment of consideration, his grandmother replied, "very well Neville, you may accompany me. But do not run off like a hooligan." Neville nodded his agreement and went to fetch his jacket and comb his hair.

When he returned, his grandmother removed the lid from the ornate jar in which they kept the floo powder. Neville took a large handful, tossed it in the fire, and said, "Diagon Alley!" Being used to floo powder, the sensation of soaring past multiple fireplaces did not bother him in the slightest, and he spent the short journey imagining what Diagon Alley would look like. Neville emerged from the fireplace into a dusty pub packed with wizards. His grandmother followed behind him, and led Neville outside. She took out her ornate wand and tapped a brick on the wall. Only then were they able to enter Diagon Alley.

Neville was shocked. He had imagined Diagon Alley for years, but never was it as grand as the real site. The streets were packed with wizards old and young. There were groups of stationary old warlocks and young curious children. The narrow streets were lined with wizarding stores, in which much money was exchanging hands. Neville could not believe his eyes, and paused to take it all in.

"What are you doing boy, keep moving!" His grandmother's shrill voice called back to him, propelling him forward. He apologized, then, jogging slightly, caught up.

Neville and his grandmother bought robes and quills, potions ingredients and ink. They walked from store to store. Finally, when his grandmother stopped to talk to an old, hunchbacked friend, was Neville able to take a good look around again. Across the street, outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, he could see two young boys around his age. One was tall, with bright red hair and freckles, while the other was shorter, with dark messy hair and glasses. Two younger red-haired girls, presumably related to the red-haired boy, were talking nearby. The dark haired boy caught Neville's eye and motioned him over. Neville turned to his grandmother.

"Gran…. Gran….." He said breathlessly.

"What is it Neville? Can't you see I'm speaking to someone?" His grandmother replied, exasperated.

"Gran, could I go across the street to talk to those boys over there, in front of the Quidditch store?" Neville tried to look innocent, so his grandmother would not disapprove.

His grandmother gave the boys an appraising look, then nodded her consent. Neville hurried across the street without a second thought.

"Hullo" he said as he reached the two boys. Up close, he could see the red haired boy was covered in freckles, and the black haired boy had vivid green eyes.

"Hi," said the black haired boy. "I'm Harry Potter, and this is Ron Weasley. Are you starting Hogwarts this year too?"

Neville nodded. "I'm Neville Longbottom," he replied.

Both boys stared, openmouthed, at Neville. "Blimey, you're really him?!" asked Ron. Neville nodded again, a bit shy.

"Wow!" said Harry, impressed. "D'you remember anything about that night when you-know-who uhhh, uhhh…" his voice trailed off, but Neville understood what he wanted to know.

"No," Neville said sadly, wishing he could impress them more. "Not a thing."

"Oh well," said Ron, still content with Neville's fame. "What house do you think you'll be in at Hogwarts?"

"I-I don't know," Neville stammered. "My parents were in Gryffindor, though."

Both Harry and Ron looked excited. "Ours too!" Harry said. "And all Ron's brothers as well."

Neville grinned, relieved. He secretly crossed his fingers that he would in fact be put in Gryffindor, for he had heard his grandmother murmuring the other day that he might not make the cut.

"I'm bored." Harry announced. "Let's go over to the Menagerie or something."

"We were supposed to stay here." Ron said. Neville guessed Ron was generally the voice of reason in such situations as these, for he looked a bit harried, though he was still grinning.

"Besides, Harry, it looks like your dad is coming over," said the older of the red haired girls, joining them. Up close, Neville could see that she very closely resembled Ron, whereas the shorter girl did not have quite as vivid red hair, or freckles. She was quite pretty, with auburn colored hair and fair skin. Neville wondered if she was the other girl's friend.

As he was about to ask, a man with glasses, who was presumable Harry's father, walked over. "You lot have been talking for ages. Are you ready to go to Ollivander's?" He grinned good-naturedly. "Oh, hello." He said, catching sight of Neville. "Who're you?"

"I-I-I'm Neville Longbottom, sir." Neville said, unsure if it was right to call the man 'sir' or not. The man did not appear quite as surprised as Harry or Ron, but was taken aback all the same.

"It's good to meet you, Neville! I'm James Potter, Harry's father. I take it you've met Harry and Ron. And that's Ron's sister Ginny right there, and Harry's sister Farah right here."

Neville was startled. He looked to Farah. "You're….. you're….?" He was very shocked, for Farah looked nothing like Harry or his father.

James laughed. "Don't worry Neville, nobody ever believes Farah's part of the family. She takes after Lily, Harry's mother."

Farah smiled at Neville, and he could see a hint of green in her eyes, just like her brother.

"So Neville, you're starting Hogwarts this year like Harry and Ron?" James asked.

"Yes sir, I am." Neville said, looking happily at the two boys.

"Well, watch out for them. They can be a bit of trouble sometimes." James replied, winking. Harry and Ron grinned at each other. Neville grinned too as Farah said,

"I think you mean ALL the time, Dad!" She looked slightly angrily at Harry and Ron, and Neville assumed she must have been the victim of a recent prank of theirs.

James laughed. "Right you are Farah. Good thing you'll be there to calm 'em down in a couple years, eh?"

Farah nodded happily, presumable looking forward to such a day when she would be allowed to go to Hogwarts too. "But Ginny can go next year and keep an eye on them until I get there." She said, pouting slightly at the unfairness which allowed Ginny to attend Hogwarts before her.

"Ah of course, very true! Now, enough dawdling, we still have shopping to do. Come on kids, or your mums will have my head for not taking care of you properly." James started corralling the four children down the street. "Do you want to come along, Neville, or…?"

"That's alright," Neville said, wishing he could go along. "My grandmother's just over there." Neville waved to Ron and Harry, and smiled as Harry called back,

"Look for us on the Hogwarts Express, okay Neville?"

Neville nodded his agreement, and turned to find his grandmother across the street, still talking to her friend. Neville grinned as he reached her, thinking he might finally have some friends.


	3. Chapter 3: Ollivanders

After Neville and his grandmother bought the rest of the equipment necessary for Hogwarts, it was time to buy a wand. Neville was very excited by this, for he had seen his grandmother perform many tasks using hers.

They walked down the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley. Neville continued to marvel at the people and the shops. At last they reached Ollivanders. Unlike the rest of the stores, it was quite deserted. Neville wondered if Ollivander was any good, for there did not appear to be anyone nearby clamoring for a wand. They entered the dark, quiet shop.

A very old man appeared from between two shelves, as if by magic. Neville jumped, startled by his sudden appearance.

"Ah," said the very old man. "Neville Longbottom, at last. I have wondered when you would be coming."

Neville's grandmother spoke imperiously from the door, "I wish we hadn't come. Neville was supposed to get his father's wand, it was decided when he was very small, but then the poor man was killed and well, he always did want to be buried with his wand…" Neville frowned at her outburst. He had never known he was meant to use his father's wand. He wished his father had not wanted to be buried with it, for it would have been nice to use a wand that had known a very capable master. Perhaps it would have made him a more capable wizard.

"Yes, yes, such a tragedy it was… But I am sure we will find a wand that will work just as well. Now, Neville, if you would just stand here, I'll measure you." Mr. Ollivander walked around the shop as he spoke, pulling out various boxes. Neville stood in the place he had directed, being measured in several very strange places. At last Ollivander waved his wand, and the tape measure sunk to the floor.

"Alright dear boy, try this one, Elder and Unicorn hair, thirteen inches. No? Alright, try this one….." Again and again Ollivander handed Neville wands, which he waved rather foolishly, unsure whether he was supposed to say an incantation or point the wand at something or just stand still. The pile of boxes at Ollivander's feet grew larger and larger. It was clear from the loud snores in the corner of the shop that Neville's grandmother had fallen asleep from boredom. At last Neville said,

"Please, sir… I-I don't know if any wand will be right for me." He said, disappointed. Neville had dreamed of having a wand for a very long time, and now he never would.

"Nonsense, Mr. Longbottom. Remember, the wand chooses the wizard. A wand will choose you. It just has to be the right one. For you see, no two wands are the same. Each has a unique wood, core, and length. Sometimes many wands must be tried before a perfect match is found. But only the correct wand will perform the best magic for its master. Now, let us continue." Ollivander spoke all of this very quietly and slowly, as though several people before Neville had required such a speech.

They resumed the lengthy process, Ollivander pulling out boxes, Neville trying out the wands that lay inside. The sky outside was beginning to grow dark, and Neville grew worried once again. Surely Mr. Ollivander would eventually realize it was hopeless.

At last, Neville exhausted the supply of boxes that had been presented to him by Ollivander. He looked around, wonder where the wizened old shopkeeper had gone. At last he saw a shadow in the very back of the shop, and assumed it must be Ollivander.

"Mr. Ollivander?" he called softly. "Sh-should I leave?"

"Of course not, dear boy," the wizard responded. "We will find a wand for you. I wonder if this one will work…" He walked back towards the front of the shop, towards Neville. Ollivander presented him with a dusty, old box. "Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Neville took out the wand inside, and experienced the most curious sensation. Power flowed through his veins, unlike anything he had every felt before. He felt a rush of delight. At last, a wand had chosen him.

"I think we have found a wand at last!" Ollivander exclaimed. "How very curious, though…"

"S-sorry sir, but what's curious?" asked Neville, unsure if he had done something wrong.

The old wizard sighed. "You see, Mr. Longbottom, the curious part is that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your new wand gave just one other feather for wand making. It is most curious that this wand should choose you when its twin core, why, it's twin core gave you that cursed scar."

Neville was shocked. What did this mean? Would he have immense power, like the wizard who had tried to kill him as a baby? Or did it mean he was destined to turn evil? "Mr. Ollivander, wh-what…..?" His voice trailed off, unsure how to ask the questions churning in his mind.

"One can only guess, Neville Longbottom." Ollivander sighed wearily, understanding the unspoken words. "But it is a powerful wand, no doubt about that. I feel it is safe to expect many great things to come from this wand, for many great things, terrible, yes, my boy, but great all the same, came from its brother."

It was at that moment Neville's grandmother awoke, breaking the silence that had fallen in the shop. She looked around, unsure of her surroundings, then remembered where she was. "What took you so long?" She demanded of Neville.

"S-sorry Gran," he said softly, still puzzling over what Ollivander had said.

Ollivander cleared his throat. "That will be seven galleons." He said loudly, catching their attention. Neville's grandmother paid quickly, and they left the shop.

As they walked down the now-quiet street, Neville continued to ponder what Ollivander had said. Clearly this wand had chosen him for a reason. But what was it? There must be a message behind it, but Neville, try as he might, could not figure out what it might be.


	4. Chapter 4: The Hogwarts Express

On the morning of September the first, Neville awoke early. His head was filled with anticipation and worry about the school year to come. However, he still had to pack. Neville spent hours running around the house, attempting to gather his scattered possessions and place them neatly in his trunk. His grandmother pursed her lips, frustrated, and did not offer to help.

At last, Neville was finished, his trunk was downstairs, and his cloak was on. His grandmother led him outside, where a driver was waiting to take them to Kings Cross Station. He appeared surprised by their strange attire, but thought it wise not to mention such a thought. Neville stowed his trunk in the back of the car, then sat down beside his grandmother.

Neville found it difficult to keep his nerves to himself on the ride to Kings Cross Station. His hands kept shaking uncontrollably, and he even tried striking up a conversation with his grandmother, to no avail. At last, they arrived. Neville heaved his trunk out of the car as his grandmother stood idly by, watching. They then entered the station.

Like Diagon Alley, Neville had never been to Kings Cross before. However, he was less thrilled. The station was slightly dirty and extremely crowded. His grandmother led him briskly through the groups of people. She came to a stop at a brick wall between the signs for platforms nine and ten.

"Alright boy, go on now." She looked expectantly at Neville.

Neville looked back at her, confused. "What am I supposed to do?" He asked.

His grandmother sighed. "Run straight at the brick wall. I'll come along this time."

Neville sighed, slightly relieved that his grandmother would be coming. He was still very nervous about running into a solid wall, however. At last, he took a deep breath, grabbed hold of his trunk, and ran towards it. Neville fully expected to find himself sprawled on the concrete station floor, but instead, he appeared on a different station platform, where a scarlet red train was waiting. Neville's grandmother appeared behind him, and briskly said, "Good, we're early. Go on boy, get on the train."

Neville turned to tell his grandmother goodbye, and gave her a very brief hug. He then dragged his trunk onto the train and into an empty compartment. Neville watched from the window as his grandmother left the platform, feeling slightly abandoned. He continued to watch as the platform filled with families. There were tearful parents and exasperated ones, excited children and nervous ones. Neville kept trying to see his new friends, Ron and Harry, but they did not appear. What if they were not going to be on the Hogwarts Express? Neville knew Harry had mentioned the train to him, but what if something had changed? At last, however, they appeared.

Ron was accompanied by two red haired parents, and several other red-haired children of varying ages. Neville could see the plump mother fussing with each of the four boys in turn, then giving each of them a long hug. The red-haired father held on to Ginny, who looked tearful. Presumably, she wished she could go to Hogwarts this year as well.

Just next to this family was the Potters. Harry was being given a long hug by his mother, and then his father. Harry looked slightly annoyed, as though they had already hugged him too many times, which they probably had. Farah stood nearby, glowering at her brother's departure. At last Harry turned, saw Neville on the train, and waved. Neville waved back, feeling suddenly light-hearted. Harry had not forgotten about him! Harry turned back to his parents for one last goodbye, gave Farah a wave, which she did not return, then boarded the train with his trunk. Ron followed behind, accompanied by two brothers, whom Neville thought might be twins.

Not a minute later, the door to Neville's compartment slid open, and Harry and Ron dragged their trunks inside. The two other boys passed by the compartment, laughing. Neville stared at them curiously as they walked down the hall.

"Who're they?" He asked Ron.

Ron sighed. "Just my brothers, Fred and George. They're right troublemakers, watch out."

Harry grinned. "I reckon they're always good for a laugh, though." He said. Ron nodded, agreeing, and Harry looked out the window. "Mum and Dad are still out there. I wish they'd leave already, they're always so protective and- Oh, sorry Neville." Harry blushed, realizing his mistake.

"That's alright," Neville said, trying not to show how much he missed his parents.

At last, the train began to move. The parents still on the platform shouted their last goodbyes as the train gathered speed. At last, they were out of the station, and moving quickly past field after field of green, spacious fields.

"How d'you reckon we'll find out what house we're in? Fred says it's real painful." Ron said, nervous. Neville tensed up slightly, he had forgotten about that! Why hadn't he asked his grandmother while at home? Why hadn't he prepared?

Harry just laughed. "Fred's wrong, as usual. My dad told me you just have to try on this old hat, and it decides."

Neville sighed audibly with relief, and joined the conversation. A little while later, as the boys were swapping chocolate frog cards from the food trolley, three other boys entered the compartment. One was very skinny, with slick, white-blond hair. The other two were much sturdier, with large muscles.

The blond-haired boy gave Neville an appraising look. "Don't tell me _you're _the famous Neville Longbottom." He sneered. "You don't look like you could beat anything in a duel, let alone You Know Who himself." The two other boys laughed as Neville's face fell.

"Who're you?" Asked Harry sharply, finding his voice first.

"Draco Malfoy," said the blond boy. "And this is Crabbe and Goyle. Who're you?"

"Ron Weasley." Said Ron shortly. "And that's Harry Potter."

Draco laughed. "I've heard about you Weasleys! My father said you live in a barn, is that true?"

Ron grabbed for his wand. "Shut up, Malfoy." He said. He and Harry both rose to their feet. However, before they could attempt to curse Draco, the compartment door slid open once again to reveal a small girl with very frizzy brown hair and very large front teeth.

"What are you all doing?" She asked loudly.

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle all slouched off, apparently losing their appetite for a fight in the presence of a girl.

The girl looked around, realizing what had been about to happen. "You'll be in terrible trouble if you've been fighting already!" She said shrilly.

Ron looked at her, confused. "Who are you? And why are you in here, anyways?"

The girl blushed. "I'm Hermione Granger. And I came in because I've just been to see the conductor, and he says we'll be arriving in five minutes time, and none of you have your black robes on yet." With that pronouncement, Hermione left the compartment, muttering about boys.

Harry, Ron, and Neville looked at one another, slightly bewildered. They then opened their trunks and began to pull on their robes, excited to be arriving at last.


	5. Chapter 5: The Sorting Hat's Dilemma

At last the train came to a complete stop at a deserted, dark station. Neville peered out the dark window, attempting to see the castle, but could not. He, Harry, and Ron filed out of their compartment and down the long thin corridor filled with students. As they stepped off the train into the chilly summer air, Neville heard a loud voice calling "Firs' years, this way! Firs' years over here!" He turned to Harry and Ron, who were very close to being trampled by a hoard of older students, and motioned them out of the crowd towards the voice.

The three boys located the owner of the voice at the very end of the station platform. It was a large man, nearly twice their size, with a thick black beard. Neville gazed up at the man, astonished by his formidable size. He turned to see Harry and Ron staring as well. Moments later, when the man appeared content that all the first years had left the train, he turned briskly and led them off the platform.

Harry, Ron, and Neville struggled to keep up with the man's swift pace, and soon, like many of the other students, lagged behind. At last, the dusty path which he had been leading them down ended and a large lake came into view. There was a cluster of small boats waiting at the shore. The man called, "Righ', now get inter a boat, yeh lot. No more'n four o' yer can go together, mind yeh!"

Neville looked at Ron and Harry, and they moved quickly through the jostling students to claim a boat together. Moments before they were about to leave the shore, the three boys were joined by Hermione Granger from the train, who appeared to be quite alone. Neville felt sympathy towards her, but turned away as the boats began to move across the lake. He could not ignore Hermione for long, however, for she was utilizing the boat ride as an opportunity to share rather useless trivia about Hogwarts.

"Did you know it's impossible to Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts? Oooh, and Muggles can't see it either, to them it's just a great big worn down building. And look at that tall tower up there, it must be the Astronomy tower, according to _Hogwarts, A History _it's one of the tallest_. _Although it might be Gryffindor or Ravenclaw tower, according to the book they're also quite tall. And inside-" Hermione was speaking all of this very quickly, and seemed most disturbed when Ron finally interrupted her loudly.

"Would you shut up already? We're not even at the castle yet, and I already know more about Hogwarts than I really care to." He groaned loudly as Harry and Neville roared with laughter. Neville felt slightly bad, but Hermione was being rather annoying. After Ron's outburst, however, she ceased her tirade of facts, and did not speak for the rest of the journey.

At last, the boats arrived on the shore. Hogwarts loomed over them, perfectly visible despite the dark night sky. Neville stood staring up at it; he was not the only one. His trance was only broken when the large man shouted, "Righ' now, inside yeh go!" The man led them up to a very large, heavy door, which he pushed open easily. The students filed inside, looking around curiously and whispering to one another. Only Hermione, who appeared to be bursting with unshared trivia, stood alone. Neville glanced quickly at her, then hurried ahead to catch Ron and Harry, who were examining a spectacular suit of armor.

Neville did not notice when the giant man left, but he was certainly aware of the arrival of an old witch, who, despite her age, seemed very capable of dealing with students. Her pursed lips and raised eyebrows caused Neville to assume it would not be wise to cause any trouble in her class. Everyone else clearly felt the same way, for they stopped talking at once. The woman cleared her throat.

"In a moment," she said in a strong voice, "I will lead you into the Great Hall, where you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a sacred ceremony at Hogwarts, for while you are here, your house will be your family. Achievements will earn you points, while rule breaking will cause them to be taken away. Now, if you will all follow me, we will enter." The woman turned around and set off briskly down the hall, the swarm of nervous students struggling to keep up.

At last, she paused outside yet another daunting doorway. Neville could see four tables inside, filled with students. The hall was bursting with noise from the many voices calling merrily to one another. As the first years entered, however, they all grew silent with what felt to Neville like a very foreboding manner. The woman had left the first years standing in front of the students and faculty, and now returned with a stool and a tattered old hat. Neville looked at Harry and Ron, who did not appear to be quite as confused as Neville, though they both bore looks of puzzlement. The hall remained silent as the woman placed the hat on the stool. Neville watched with apprehension as the hat suddenly split open at a seam and began to sing:

"_You may all think I'm worthless_

_But there's more than meets the eye_

_I may just seem like a worn old hat_

_But I can see inside your mind_

_So here is how the sorting works_

_For those who do not know_

_You place me on your little head_

_And I choose where you ought to go_

_Gryffindor might be your home_

_If you're brave and true_

_For all those folks in Gryffindor _

_Know what is right to do_

_You may belong with Hufflepuff_

_Who are loyal beyond compare_

_For if there will be trouble_

_Hufflepuff will be right there_

_Or Ravenclaw might be for you_

_If your mind is sharp and bright_

_For Ravenclaws crave wisdom_

_No matter what the uphill fight_

_Lastly, perhaps Slytherin_

_Will be where you belong_

_They hold dear a great ambition_

_Which divides them from the throng_

_Now step right up and put me on_

_I'll give your mind a cruise_

_You have no need to worry_

_For I know always what to choose"_

As the hat finished its song, the hall burst into applause, clearly impressed. Neville sighed with relief and clapped as well, for putting on a hat did not seem a very daunting task to him.

The woman stepped forward once again as the last strains of applause vanished, and unrolled a large scroll of parchment that was apparently filled with names, which she began to call.

"Hannah Abbot" she first called. A pale girl with brown hair blushed and stepped forward. The woman placed the hat upon her head, which paused for a moment before roaring, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The hall burst into applause once more as Susan removed the hat and went to join her new house. Neville continued to watch as more students were sorted.

When Hermione Granger, whom Neville still immediately recognized by her frizzy hair, was called, Neville watched closely. She sat for several long minutes before the hat finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" and she joined the table of red and gold.

The Sorting continued uneventfully, and Neville's head soon filled with worries once again. What would the Sorting Hat tell him? Neville desperately wanted to be in Gryffindor, where Harry and Ron were bound to end up. He wanted to make his family proud. Neville was so consumed with these thoughts that he did not hear the woman call his name. She said it again. "Neville Longbottom?" she called, scanning the students. Ron nudged Neville, who suddenly looked up, and, upon seeing the woman's steely gaze bearing down on him, turned bright red and hurried up to the hat. He could hear whispers around the hall, what were they saying? But now the hat was being lowered on his head, and they did not matter, for-

"Well well well, who do we have here? Ah, Mr. Longbottom." Neville could feel the gravelly voice of the hat reverberating through his head. He tried not to shake with nervousness. "Hmm… You are particularly hard to place, Mr. Longbottom. For you see, your qualities are in line with several houses. I see much Gryffindor in you, oh yes. You may not see it now, but there is bravery inside your head. But loyalty, too… Perhaps Hufflepuff would be a better match, a more comfortable place. And yet, despite those qualities, I still sense some ambition inside you… A thirst to prove yourself. Only Slytherin can nurse such a longing, you know. I see you are not a dark wizard, Mr. Longbottom, but you have such ambition. Yet, you also have so much fear, which might inhibit such a quality. So where should I put you?" Neville silently pleaded that the hat would choose Gryffindor.

"I see you want Gryffindor, no crime for that. But you see, Mr. Longbottom, I was not created to place the students where they wanted to go. No, I must choose where their minds show they would best thrive. For Hogwarts is a school of learning, as I'm sure you know. But you are quite difficult, yes… So many qualities that would help you survive in different houses. But I'm here to decide which of your attributes are strongest, so that shall be my decision. Do you really believe Gryffindor would be the best place for you? Think of the bravery in Gryffindor, the valiant face you will constantly have to wear. I can see everything, Mr. Longbottom. Bravery yes, but will the fear mask it indefinitely? Hufflepuff might suit you much better. You would be comfortable there. I see your loyalty to others, your craving for friends. Only Hufflepuff can fill that need, I feel. But you appear very adamant about Gryffindor, and I believe that speaks volumes about your character. Be brave, Neville Longbottom, and you will not regret this choice. GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville's eyes flew open as the hall cheered. The Gryffindor table was especially excited, and clapped loudly as Neville sat down to watch the end of the Sorting. He sighed with relief; he had not let anyone down! Neville felt slightly queasy about the Sorting Hat's assessment of his character, but shrugged it off momentarily in favor of celebrating. He watched as each of the House tables filled, and cheered especially loudly as Harry and Ron were both sorted into Gryffindor.

At last the Sorting finished. Neville watched with bated breath as a very old man with long silver hair, and an equally long and silver beard, rose to greet the school.

"Welcome," he said, "to all of you. I would just like to say a few words to you all. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Now tuck in!" The man waved his wand as several of the students laughed, and the long tables immediately filled with food.

Neville had never seen such an assortment. The table was crowded with different kinds of meats and potatoes, as well as many other dishes. He filled his plate and listened to the conversations around him. To his right, Hermione Granger was speaking to an older student about classes. On Neville's left sat a small Irish boy, who introduced himself as Seamus Finnigan, then turned to talk to Dean Thomas, another first year. Neville sat quietly, basking in the contentment of the students around him. How could he have ever been worried about going to Hogwarts?

After everyone in the hall had eaten their fill, desserts had appeared, and everyone began to eat once again. Finally, Dumbledore stood and waved his wand again, and the plates appeared pristine and shiny, as though they had not just been used in a feast.

"I realize you all would rather listen to each other than myself, but Mr. Filch has asked me to remind all students that there will be no magic in the corridors. Also, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor is off limits to all those who wish to keep their bodies living and whole for the school year. Now, off to bed with you all!" Dumbledore smiled as he spoke, although his words appeared awfully serious. It did not seem as though many students cared much, however, for the hall was suddenly filled with noise once again as the benches scraped against the ground and the students rose to their feet, talking incessantly once again.

Neville turned to Harry and Ron and saw the same look of bemusement upon their faces. They did not have time to reflect upon Dumbledore's speech, however, for it was time to see Gryffindor tower for the first time. Neville followed the other new Gryffindors up staircase after staircase, already dreaming of all the enjoyable times that were to come.


	6. Chapter 6: The Lesser 'Evil'

Neville was pondering. He had woken up early on his first morning of classes, and was wasting away his extra time by thinking about what the Sorting Hat had told him the previous night. Neville knew the hat was right, he was often timid. However, he was determined to prove he could be a true Gryffindor.

Neville had just reached this conclusion when the other four boys in his dormitory awoke. He could hear them groaning slightly as they took in the bright sunlight. They all dressed in their Hogwarts black robes, along with the spectacularly striped ties that had been delivered during the night. Neville had some difficulty tying his, but felt it looked acceptable enough. He waited for Harry and Ron to finish dressing, and the three of them proceeded together down to the Great Hall.

As they walked down the many corridors and staircases, getting lost multiple times in the process, Neville noticed many small groups of young witches and wizards, laughing and talking and performing spectacular feats of magic that Neville could never even imagine doing. He was extremely impressed, and eager to begin his training as a wizard, though it would surely not lead to talents as great as those he was seeing.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. The food was as delicious as it had been the night before, though without the grandeur of the evening. Neville talked with Harry and Ron as he ate.

"I reckon we'll have McGonagall, the witch from Sorting last night, for transfiguration. Dad says she's really great…" Harry was saying.

Ron nodded. "I can't wait for Defense Against the Dark Arts, it should be mad!" He exclaimed. "What about you, Neville?" He asked.

Neville swallowed the bit of kipper he had been eating and said, "Well, I've always sort of liked the plants we have back home, so maybe Herbology?" Neville felt slightly embarrassed to be sharing this with Harry and Ron, for Herbology was not nearly as interesting as either of the classes they had mentioned. Harry and Ron, however, just smiled and agreed that it was sure to be a good class. Neville relaxed, glad they understood.

At last, the first year schedules were distributed. Neville looked down at his to find that they would be starting the day with Potions, which was with the Slytherin first years, then Defense Against the Dark Arts. He left the table with Harry and Ron, then they set off in search of the dungeons.

"I reckon it might be down this way," Ron said unsurely.

Harry, however, was looking in the other direction. "I could have sworn I heard someone say the dungeons were this way." He called from down the hall.

Neville stood, bewildered, looking unsurely down each direction of the hall. At last, one of the Gryffindor prefects, Ron's brother Percy, showed them the correct way. Neville sprinted down to the dungeons with Harry and Ron, trying to ignore the splitting pain in his side. They entered just as the bell rang. Neville could hear Hermione Granger, who was standing near the door, muttering again. He took a seat with Harry and Ron, and they each took out the Potions book they had been instructed to buy.

Neville looked around, curious. The room was very dark, with high ceilings. There were cupboards of mysterious ingredients around the room, all of which, Neville was sure, were quite powerful. He could see glass jars full of strange green substances, boxes with mysterious labels, and every instrument a potion maker could ever need. Just as Neville was about to page through his Potions book, he found it ripped out of his hands by none other than Draco Malfoy from the Hogwarts Express.

"Look who it is, the most powerful baby in the world." Draco drawled. "What happened, Longbottom?" he asked crudely, laughing.

Harry took out his wand, prepared to curse Draco.

"Look Longbottom, you've got a little friend to fight your battles for you!" Draco exclaimed, laughing, as he took out his own wand.

Harry opened his mouth to utter a curse, but the door to the dungeons was thrown open loudly before he could do so. Disappointed, he stowed his wand back in his cloak, shooting Neville an apologetic look as he did so. Neville was very put out by what Draco had said. He hadn't asked Harry to fight for him; he had done so of his own accord, because they were friends! Neville wanted to ponder this further, but was not able to do so, for the Potions master was arriving.

A large puff of colorful smoke preceded the man into the room. Neville's breath was momentarily lost as he finally saw the Potions professor. He was nothing like Neville had imagined. Wearing bottle green robes spangled with different colored stars, he was easily the most flamboyant wizard Neville had ever seen. As he turned around at the head of the room, the end of his robes swirled about, creating a dazzling effect.

"Welcome" He said in a booming voice, "to Potions. I am Professor Exanimis, and I teach this course here at Hogwarts. I am also head of Slytherin House." He paused to look fondly at the mass of green and silver on one side of the room. Neville was struck by how theatrical the man seemed, and how queer and abrupt he was. "I am going to give you all a test to see how much you know. Quills out, now, and no speaking!" Professor Exanimis waved his wand, and a stack of papers distributed themselves around the room.

Neville took out his quill and began to work feverishly. He did not know many of the answers. Professor Exanimis walked around the room, looking at their papers as they worked. When he came to Neville, he exclaimed in a very theatrical tone, "Don't even know the proper use of a bezoar, boy? Tut tut, I would expect a three year old to know as much. And nothing about the wolfsbane potion either? Surely you must know something? Muggleborn, are you boy?" Professor Exanimis looked at Neville with loathing, clearly dissatisfied by his lack of knowledge.

Neville could feel his face growing red. "N-no sir, I'm a pureblood. N-Neville Longbottom" Neville felt very ashamed of his skills.

"My boy, how COULD you grow up not knowing such simple things as these? Shameful, really…" The professor walked away, leaving Neville quite downtrodden. As he did so the most peculiar feeling came over Neville. The lighting scar on his forehead suddenly throbbed terribly, and Neville clutched it in pain. Harry and Ron looked at him curiously, but he shook them off, for the pain was already subsiding.

Meanwhile, Professor Exanimis was examining the work of the Slytherins, and growing very excited. "Very good, boy!" He exclaimed to Malfoy. "Ten points to Slytherin!" Neville grimaced at Harry and Ron, who both looked quite murderous. As the bell rang, Professor Exanimis shouted, "Slytherins, well done, five points each for your hard work! Gryffindors, I was not at all impressed by your knowledge of potions. No doubt most of you are Mud-I mean Muggleborns- who don't know potion from soup, but nevertheless, unacceptable. I expect a roll of parchment from each of you about the use of a bezoar for next class. Off you go!" The professor left the room with a dramatic swish of his robes, and the students followed.

Harry, Ron, and Neville left the room quickly, angry looks on each of their faces.

"What a terrible teacher!" Harry exclaimed once they were out of earshot. "Giving all those points to Slytherin, and making us do homework!"

"When he came in I thought he might be a great teacher, but as soon as he started speaking…" Ron grimaced and walked faster.

"You think he was unfair to _you!_" said a voice behind Neville. The three boys turned around to see Hermione Granger again. Neville secretly wondered why she kept appearing like this. "I got every single answer right, but he didn't care, because I'm not a stupid Slytherin!" Hermione punctuated this statement by turning on her heel and charging angrily down the hall.

"Granger may be an insufferable know-it-all, but that's bang out of order." said Harry knowledgeable. Ron and Neville nodded, agreeing.

The boys proceeded back to the Great Hall for lunch, then set off to find the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Luckily, they had left early enough to offset the time they spent wandering the halls, getting lost again and again. Neville could have sworn the statues and paintings kept switching corridors, for they all looked the same to him. At last, they found the correct place.

"Blimey," Harry exclaimed as he entered the room. "Look at all this!" Ron and Neville hurried in after him, gawking. There were large pictures of moving dark creatures on the walls, and fascinating skeletons that looked a bit like dragons hanging from the ceiling. Neville was extremely amused by it all, and was greatly anticipating the arrival of their professor.

He was, however, disappointed. As soon as Professor Quirrell entered the room, wearing a large turban, Neville noted, it was easy to tell this would not be an interesting class. Quirrell stepped into the room very timidly, and looked around nervously as he walked to the front of the class. He was very thin in his robes, and Neville privately thought a good gust a wind could easily knock him over. He spoke in a high, quivering voice which was very difficult to listen to for long periods of time. At last, Neville gave up, and hoped Harry or Ron would fill him in later. Instead, Neville spent the time pondering the strange pain he had felt in his scar during the Potions class. It had been right after Professor Exanimis scolded Neville… Had he done something dark? Neville did not know. He continued to speculate until the bell finally rang, breaking his trance. Neville packed up his belongings and left the room, quite unimpressed.

Harry and Ron looked similarly dissatisfied. "That was extremely boring," Ron declared. Harry nodded fervently, obviously disappointed.

"I really thought it would be a good class, but that Quirrell looks ready to pass out at the sight of his own shadow!" He exclaimed angrily.

"I can't decide who's worse, him or Exanimis," Neville said, trying to get his mind off his scar. Harry and Ron agreed that they were both quite terrible teachers. They continued to bash both professors throughout dinner. Neville was slightly quiet. He was once again wondering what had happened to his scar in the Potions class. Nothing like that had every happened before.

Neville remained hushed as the other four boys in his dormitory dissected their lessons from the day. He forced a laugh at Seamus's impressive imitation of Quirrell, but then fell silent once again. What had happened to him, and why? He sincerely hoped it would not occur again, for the pain had left Neville with an extremely strange sense of foreboding.


	7. Chapter 7: Strange Occurrences

On the third morning of term, the first years found a notice on the message board in the Gryffindor common room. It announced that they would be starting flying lessons that Friday. Neville felt slightly nervous about flying. His grandmother had never allowed him to ride a broomstick before; for she worried Neville might fall off. Harry and Ron, however, were thrilled. They spent the full day telling Neville all the fantastic broomstick adventures they had had. Neville was very jealous. He wished Friday would come quickly, so he too could feel what it was like to fly.

For once in his life, Neville's wish came true. The next two days passed quickly in a haze of spellbooks and homework. On Friday morning, Harry received a small package from his father.

"Wow!" Harry exclaimed as he pulled out his present. "Look at this, he's sent me a snitch! The note says he nicked it back when he was in school!" Neville and Ron roared with laughter, for they were both used to the antics of Harry's father by then, having heard many stories about him. Harry stowed the snitch in his pocket as the three boys left the table for Herbology.

It was surprisingly easy for Harry, Ron, and Neville to find the Hogwarts greenhouse, for it was the only large glass plant-filled building on the property. Neville hurried inside, excited. He looked curiously around at the different plants. He recognized a few species of flowers from his grandmother's garden, but nothing that looked extremely interesting or dangerous. He supposed they might be too young for that.

Neville followed the Herbology class surprisingly well, given that he had been quite confused in all his other lessons thus far. He even managed to earn five points for Gryffindor for demostrating the proper way to plant a honking tulip, though this was overshadowed by the fifty points Hermione had earned from answering various questions. Neville tried not to look put-out.

At last, after a hurried lunch, it was time for their first flying lesson. Ron was trying to give Neville tips.

"Right, now you just kick off the ground to go up. And then you just sort of steer….." Neville was quite confused, and decided he would leave the teaching to Madam Hooch, who was rumored to be their flying instructor. He, Harry, and Ron stepped out of the school into the bright sunlight and warm weather. Neville found the sun on his face to be extremely pleasant. They walked down the lawn to where a tall woman with grey hair was standing by a wide selection of broomsticks. Neville followed her gaze to see a group of green tie-clad students making their way to the flying class. Neville groaned under his breath, he had not been aware they would be learning with Slytherin.

At last, everyone had arrived. Madam Hooch instructed everyone to stand by a broomstick. She taught them how to call the broomstick by saying 'UP!' Harry was quite good at it, and Neville quite poor. No matter how many times he shouted the word, his broomstick refused to leave the ground. At last he gave up, and just picked up the broomstick when nobody was watching, feeling slightly depressed.

After all the students had a firm hold on their brooms, Madam Hooch showed them the correct way to sit. Neville laughed with Harry and Ron as Madam Hooch told Malfoy he had been flying the wrong way for years. She adjusted his position, but Malfoy reverted back as soon as she turned away.

Neville was still watching as Malfoy kicked off into the air behind Madam Hooch's back. Crabbe and Goyle soon followed, their frail broomsticks quivering slightly from the weight of the boys.

"Madam Hooch! Madam Hooch!" Neville heard a voice call down the line. He turned to see Hermione Granger, of course. "Madam Hooch, look!" She pointed to Draco Malfoy. Neville almost pitied Hermione, for he knew Malfoy would not soon forget about this. He shook off this thought, however, at the sight of a sour-faced Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle being summoned back to the ground by Madam Hooch. She grabbed hold of all three boys and began to drag them towards the school, shouting behind her, "No more flying until I come back!"

The rest of the students waited by their broomsticks, whispering in small groups. Neville could see Hermione standing alone, her face flushed. He felt as though it might be nice to invite her to join them. However, Harry and Ron were playing with Harry's new snitch, which seemed like a much more fun pastime. Neville joined them. Harry would release the snitch, then three sets of hands would scramble to catch it. Neville was not very good. The small gold ball was constantly slipping through his fingers. This was quite a problem, for as soon as Harry released the snitch after his latest capture, it flew directly towards Neville. Neville grabbed at it, his hands swiping through the air. But the snitch changed directions quickly, and rose upwards. Neville looked at Harry in dismay.

"Oh no," Harry said."Dad'll kill me if I lose this!" He looked around to make sure Madam Hooch was not coming, then rose into the air after the snitch.

Neville could hear Hermione squealing "No! You'll lose us points! You're breaking the rules, Harry!" Neville just laughed with Ron. Harry was quite a spectacular flier. Neville felt a twinge of envy, but it was quickly replaced by dread as he saw Professor McGonagall approaching.

"Harry, get down!" Neville called frantically. Harry glanced about, saw Professor McGonagall, and flew quickly back to the ground.

"Harry Potter!" She called in a loud voice. Neville trembled. Even Harry looked a bit nervous. "Follow me." She said in a curt voice. Harry dropped his broomstick and hurried along after Professor McGonagall, stowing the snitch safely in his pocket as he did so.

Ron turned to Neville, panic on his face. "Blimey! Reckon he'll be okay?" Ron asked nervously. Neville just shrugged. Professor McGonagall had looked extremely angry to him… At that moment, he saw Madam Hooch returning. Neville mounted his broomstick, preparing to fly on her command. However, before she had even reached them, Neville felt his broom shudder, then start rising through the air.

"Neville, get back down! She's coming!" Ron yelped, unaware that Neville had not told his broomstick to fly.

"I'm trying! I didn't even do anything, the broom just sort of rose!" Neville called, panicked. The sensation of flying was amazing, but he did not have time to enjoy it, for Madam Hooch had just arrived.

"Mr. Longbottom, get down now!" She called. Neville could hear Ron explaining the situation to her as the broomstick rose higher and higher. At last it stopped, and began to shake violently. Neville clung tight.

"Hold on, Neville!" he heard Ron nervously call from the ground. "Madam Hooch is coming, she'll get you!"

Neville could see the flying instructor approaching his broomstick. However, at that exact moment, his broom gave a violent lurch, and Neville felt himself tumbling off. He watched the procession of ground and sky flit faster and faster through his vision as he rolled through the air, the wind whistling in his ears, coming always closer to the ground. At last Neville hit the hard, solid earth and all became black.

Neville awoke groggily in a sparsely-lit room. As he blinked wearily, two young faces swam into view: Harry and Ron. Neville tried to sit up but found he could not without considerate pain. He blinked again and his vision cleared.

"Where am I?" He asked, confused. An old woman bustled over with a glass of water.

"You're in the hospital wing, of course! You fell fifty feet, where else would you be? You've got a cracked skull, painful, but not incurable. You should be alright in a little while, I mended it at once." The woman said this all very quickly as she continued to hurry around the room, waving her wand and putting everyone in order.

"That's Madam Pomfrey," Harry whispered. "So what happened, Neville?" he asked. Neville remembered that Harry had not been present during his accident.

"My broom just went all funny. It started flying higher and higher and shaking all around. I dunno why." Neville said, still feeling exhausted. "What did McGonagall do to you?" He asked nervously.

Harry grinned. "She put me on the Quidditch team. She reckoned it was that or detention, and of course I'd rather play Quidditch! I was going to write home and ask for my broom when I heard you were in here." Neville could see Harry was still clutching a quill and parchment; he had clearly come right away. Neville felt touched to have such devoted friends.

The three boys speculated what might have happened to Neville's broom until Madam Pomfrey said he was allowed to leave. It was half past nine as they left the hospital wing, and the three boys hurried quickly to the common room, hoping they would not be caught.

Luck, however, was not on their side. Just as they were approaching a hidden staircase, an old cat with bright yellow eyes appeared.

"I've heard about her, that's Mrs. Norris!" Ron exclaimed. "She's probably going to get Filch, who'll give us all detention, even if we prove we were in the hospital wing. Run!" Ron turned and rain the opposite way down the hall, Harry and Neville right behind. As they turned a corner, however, Neville tripped right into a suit of armor. It came clashing down, breaking the silence of the hall. Ron helped him up as an old man wearing ratty robes burst out of a tapestry.

"There you are!" He exclaimed in a raspy voice.

"Run!" Harry shouted. Neville stood up at once and ran down the hall, ignoring the throbbing pain in his knee and the heart that felt as though it was about to burst out of his chest. The boys turned down a corridor with just one door. Ron ran over and tried to open it.

"No! It's locked!" He said frantically. Both Harry and Neville tried, but were not able to open it.

"Wait!" Harry said. "I remember my mum using a spell when I locked the cat in the bathroom once. Hang on…. Alohomora!" Neville heard the lock click. He pulled open the door to let Harry and Ron through, then entered himself to a most gruesome sight.

The vast room was filled with the putrid smell of unkemptness. Neville first though he was staring at a large furry wall, but then realized there were three heads. Three enormous sleeping dog's heads. Neville's eyes grew wide, his body clenched up. He turned slowly to look at Ron and Harry, and as the heads began sniffing the air and blinking, they turned as one and ran out of the door. They did not stop until they had reached the common room, all three of them panting.

Harry and Ron began to make their way towards the first year dormitory, and Neville followed suit, still breathing heavily. He wondered why the mysterious dog was hiding in a castle full of students, and if it had some hidden purpose. Neville only knew one thing; he did not want to visit the three headed beast ever again.


	8. Chapter 8: A Halloween Predicament

Neville's first few months at Hogwarts passed quickly in a blur of classes and homework. Neville had managed to keep up with all his schoolwork, partially thanks to Harry and Ron, who were always willing to help him understand something. Neville often felt guilty for learning so slowly, but his friends were so caring that this feeling quickly went away.

Neville managed to stay out of trouble, even earning the occasional point for Gryffindor. Draco Malfoy still terrorized Neville every chance he got, but Neville had learned to ignore such taunts, and even stood up to Draco now and then. Hogwarts was finally starting to feel normal to Neville.

However, when Neville awoke on Halloween morning, he was not destined to have an ordinary day. Neville had been excited for the holiday, for it was rumored that there would be quite the celebration at dinner. The promise of a feast hanging over his head, Neville went about his schoolwork as usual. He did not participate in class unless prompted, and tried very hard to perform all his spells correctly. Finally it was time for Charms, the last class of the day. Neville was very excited, for they would be working on the Levitation spell that day.

Neville entered the classroom with Harry and Ron at his heels, discussing possible choices of entertainment that they might see at the feast that evening. Having finally learned their way around the castle, the three boys were early. They chose three seats together and continued to talk as the rest of the class trickled in. The conversation turned to the upcoming first Quidditch game of the year, in which Harry would be playing. Harry was just describing a spectacular catch he had made in the last practice when the bell rang, and Professor Flitwick bounded into the room.

Neville rather liked Professor Flitwick. He was a generally cheery fellow, with white hair and sparkling grey eyes. He was also extremely short; even the first years towered over him. However, he was quite a brilliant wizard, and all the students respected him for it.

"All right, we are going to begin the Levitation spell today!" he squeaked, clambering onto the stack of pillows he generally sat on. "Everyone remember the wand motion now, swish and flick! And don't forget the incantation, it's _Wingarium Leviosa_! Everyone find a partner, now!" The tiny professor climbed down from his pillows and began to sort out the pairs. Neville felt his face grow red, as it generally did when the students were instructed to work in pairs. Although Harry and Ron were his very good friends, they often worked together. Neville always told himself it did not matter; the two boys had just known each other much longer than they had known him. Despite these assertions, however, he still felt a little depressed every time.

Professor Flitwick bounded over. "Good good, Mr. Weasely, here is a feather for yourself and Mr. Potter. Mr. Longbottom, why don't you work with…. Miss Granger! Yes, that should work!" Professor Flitwick handed Neville a feather and hurried away as Hermione Granger came over and sat down next to Neville, who rolled his eyes at Harry and Ron. Hermione Granger gave a very unconvincing fake cough.

"I'll go first, shall I?" She asked, already taking out her wand. "_Wingardium Leviosa_" she said firmly. The feather on which they were practicing rose several feet into the air and floated there. The pairs nearby turned to watch.

"Well done, ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger!" Professor Flitwick called from across the room, where there had been a slight feather incident.

Neville felt his face grow red; surely he would not be expected to do as well as Hermione on his first try?

At last, after glancing at Neville's sulking face, Hermione brought the feather back down onto the table. Neville looked at it warily, then said "_Wingarium Leviosa_" in a very timid way. The feather lay solidly on the table, it had not moved at all.

Hermione Granger rolled her eyes. "You're doing it all wrong! You didn't even do the swish and flick, you just pointed your wand at it. And you made it sound like a question, you have to be assertive when you use spells!" She said this all in a very loud, carrying voice. Neville sunk low in his chair, extremely embarrassed. He glanced covertly at Harry and Ron, who were laughing quietly at their now pink feather. Neville wondered what they had done to it, and wished he was over there too, laughing with them.

Hermione Granger had clearly given up on Neville, and was now practicing the spell by herself again. Neville sat, brooding over his failure, until the bell finally rang. He left with Harry and Ron, complaining loudly.

"Did you hear that Hermione?" He asked, annoyed. Neville did not usually get very angry, but he felt Hermione Granger had gone too far. "She thinks she's so much better than the rest of us! Wish she'd just shut up and let me alone-" Neville was going to continue his tirade, but stopped abruptly as a short girl with frizzy brown hair pushed past him and ran down the hall. It was Hermione. Neville looked guiltily at Harry and Ron. "I didn't mean to…." He started to say, and Harry and Ron nodded.

"Don't worry mate, she deserved to know," said Harry sagely. "Now come on, the feast will be starting soon!"

Neville tried to forget about what he had said, but he felt so terrible. Neville hated when people talked about him in a derogatory way, yet he had still done such a thing to Hermione.

The Halloween feast did little to curb his guilt. Neville did not eat must, and was extremely worried when he could not see Hermione along the Gryffindor table. Neville wondered if she had run away, or something of that nature. He began to panic.

"Where d'you reckon Hermione is?" He asked Harry and Ron in what was meant to be a conversational tone. The two boys just looked at one another.

"Calm down mate, she'll be fine," Ron said, relaxed. "She's probably just late, or not hungry, or something," he said.

Harry nodded. "It's not your problem Neville, she'll calm down."

Neville did not quite agree with this logic, but did not know how best to voice his concerns to Harry and Ron. At that moment, however, Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the Great Hall, shouting. The hall grew quiet at once, for this was not a usual occurrence.

"Troll, in the dungeons! There's a troll in the dungeons!" Quirrell was shouting in hysterics. Neville looked fearfully at Harry and Ron, who appeared to be just as nervous. He then turned to look at Dumbledore, who was shooting large fireworks out of his wand in order to capture everyone's attention.

"Prefects," he said calmly, without a trace of fear in his voice, "kindly lead your house to safety. Teachers, please come with me to the dungeons." Dumbledore strode quickly down the center of the room before any of the students had time to react. The other teachers followed suit, whispering to one another as they left the hall.

The room grew deafeningly loud once again as benches were hastily pushed back and students began streaming towards the door, shouting in fear. Neville found himself in the middle of the crowd, quite apart from Harry and Ron. Everyone was pushing and shoving, trying to get away as quickly as possible. Neville was very scared as he jostled his way through the masses. He had just located Percy standing across the hall when Hermione Granger swam into his mind once again. She did not know about the troll! Fear pulsed through Neville's body; it would be his fault if the troll got to her. He knew he had to do something, but what? Neville did not know. He was not even sure where Hermione might be. His mind went back and forth, should he try to rescue Hermione or not?

At last, Neville made his choice. He slowly crossed the hall to join a large group of Gryffindors heading towards the common room, his heart still pounding. Neville tried to reason with himself, saying that Hermione was sure to be able to protect herself if the troll did find her, for she was a very smart witch. Besides, Neville was not a very good wizard yet. He doubted he would be very useful against a troll anyways. Despite these details, however, Neville was still very worried.

He climbed through the portrait hole, ignoring the large amount of noise. All the students were speculating how a troll could have possibly gotten into Hogwarts. Neville wanted to join in, but his conscience would not let him. He could not stop thinking about Hermione. At last, Neville decided to act. He had to find her, or at least tell a teacher. Neville climbed out of the portrait hole unseen and hurried down the corridor, wondering where Hermione could be. The halls were empty, and Neville's footsteps made an ominous sound as he walked further and further. At last, Neville turned a corner and found Professor Exanimis.

"P-Professor!" Neville exclaimed, secretly groaning, for he was sure to get detention now. However, he had to tell someone about Hermione. "I think a student might not know about the troll, Professor…." Neville's voice trailed off as he took in Professor Exanimis's bizarre appearance. He was wearing his customary colorful robes, but his face and hands had a wide variety of burns and scratches on them. Neville was extremely bewildered.

Neville watched fearfully as the professor's face grew red. He was clearly going to yell at Neville. Before he could, however, more footsteps were heard coming down the hallway. Neville looked up gratefully to see Professor McGonagall approaching with none other than Hermione. Neville's mind flooded with relief, and he felt that he could breathe normally at last.

"What is going on here?" Professor McGonagall asked as she approached. Neville could see Hermione more clearly now, she appeared unharmed, though her robes were ripped slightly.

"Professor, I-I-I realized Hermione was missing, and I just went to go find someone…." Neville was not sure what to say. He was uncertain whether or not he would be punished.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Very well. Now go back to your common room." She said shortly. Neville hurried away at once, followed by Hermione.

Neville's mind was racing again. Should he ask Hermione if she was alright? Should he apologize for earlier, and for not finding a teacher sooner? Maybe he shouldn't say anything, given that Hermione would clearly not care. It was, therefore, a surprise when she spoke.

"You were coming to find me?" She asked. Neville could not decide if her tone was surprised or angry. He nodded. Hermione was silent for a moment. Neville briefly wondered if her mind was as conflicted as his, but then decided it surely was not. He was about to speak when she angrily exclaimed, "Well, you can't have cared too much, or you would have told someone much sooner!" Neville thought he heard a slight sniffle as she hurried ahead of him.

Neville felt angry once again as he climbed back through the portrait hole into a now sparsely-inhabited common room. Yes, he had delayed in telling a teacher, but he had tried to in the end. Surely that had to count for something. As Neville prepared for bed, being peppered with questions by Harry and Ron, he decided Hermione must not care about friends, for it was clear she was never going to have any.


	9. Chapter 9: Speculations

After Halloween night, Neville stopped thinking about Hermione Granger. He felt he had certainly offered her a chance to be friendly, and the girl had not taken it. There was nothing more he could do. Neville's thoughts turned instead to Professor Exanimis, who had grown even stranger since Neville had almost run into him that strange night. He had not come to a single meal in the Great Hall, and tended to roam the corridors, punishing students for strange, fabricated offenses. Neville was dreading his next Potions class.

Unfortunately, the things Neville dreaded always happened much sooner than he would have hoped, and he found himself walking to Potions with Harry and Ron just three days after Halloween.

"How many points d'you think he'll take today?" Ron asked bitterly. It had become a running competition among the three boys to see who could guess closest. Neville, who was often pessimistic, was quite good at this game.

"I reckon at least seventy five," Neville said dejectedly. "Probably mostly from me. I bet he's been waiting to punish me for something ever since I ran into him the other night."

Harry and Ron nodded sympathetically. Neville had told them all about what he had seen, omitting the fact that he had gone to tell someone about Hermione. He didn't think the other boys would understand, and might get the wrong idea.

Harry, Ron, and Neville entered the Potions room and sat down at their usual places. Lately, they had grown accustomed to entering just before the bell, so Malfoy would not have time to torment them before Exanimis arrived. This plan, however, was not always successful. As soon as Malfoy caught sight of the boys, he left his friends and swaggered over to them.

"Look what the cat dragged in. What, are you afraid of me, Longbottom?" Draco sneered. Neville, who was quite fed up with Draco's pompous attitude, took out his wand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry and Ron do the same. Draco hurriedly removed his own wand from his robes, looking slightly nervous now.

"Not so brave without your little minions, are you?" Ron observed. He raised his wand to perform a spell as Mr. Exanimis entered the room in a swirl of gold robes.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for fighting!" The professor shouted as he walked to his customary place at the front of the classroom. Draco smirked at the boys as he sauntered back to his seat. Harry looked mutinous.

"Alright now, we're continuing the cure for boils today! If your potion was done correctly, it should have stewed and become a pale yellow!" Professor Exanimis said all this in his usual booming voice. Neville gasped as he saw the professor's face in the soft light of the dungeon, for his bruises looked even worse. Clearly, however, they had not detracted from his love for theatrics.

Neville hurried to collect his ingredients and cauldron. To his great surprise, the potion within was indeed yellow! Perhaps not as pale as preferred, but it was yellow all the same. Neville was very grateful to Harry and Ron, for they had helped him finish it last Potions class. He glanced around, seeing many potions in various shades of yellow. Seamus's appeared to be giving off a rather foul smell, though the color was alright. Both Harry and Ron's were slightly paler than Neville's, but he did not mind.

The boys went to work finishing their potions. Neville tried his best to follow the directions exactly. However, upon adding the horned slugs, he realized one was missing. Grumbling, Neville hurried back to the store cupboard for another. He turned around, a rather disgusting horned slug clutched in his hand, to see Draco Malfoy walking away from Neville's cauldron. Harry and Ron, both obscured by the vapor their potions were giving off, did not seem to have noticed. Neville ran back to his potion to see it bubbling dangerously. He was unsure what to do. Cautiously, Neville dropped the last horned slug into the cauldron. The potion seemed fine for a moment, then began to bubble even more dangerously. Neville stared at it, dismayed and unsure what to do. At last, the potion seemed unable to contain itself, and exploded.

Bits of green potion flew through the air, hitting various students. It did not appear to cause any harm, but Professor Exanimis was irate all the same.

"Who did this?" He roared, a vein in his neck pulsing dangerously. Neville tried not to look guilty as Professor Exanimis strode briskly around the room, examining the contents of everyone's cauldrons, trying to find a culprit. Neville gulped audibly as the furious professor reached his table. He watched as Professor Exanimis peered carefully inside, and, upon seeing the cauldron was half empty and the mixture bright green, glared fiercely at Neville.

"You idiot! Befouling my classroom and interrupting the potion making of your fellow students! Fifty points from Gryffindor! Now get out! And I expect a two foot essay on the purpose of following steps IN THE CORRECT ORDER, because that is obviously what went wrong. Thought you'd add a few porcupine quills before finishing with the slugs, did you boy? You are obviously too daft to realize steps are ordered for a reason! Now GO!" Professor Exanimis shouted this all a mere six inches from Neville's face, bringing his wounds into even sharper focus. Neville tried to look anywhere except at the livid man, for he was very afraid. At the end of his tirade, Neville gathered his books quickly and ran out of the room as fast as he could, attempting to ignore the pompous sneer Malfoy was giving him.

Luckily, the class had almost ended by the time Professor Exanimis banished Neville, so he was not forced to wait in the hall for very long. Harry and Ron came streaming out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and ran straight over to Neville.

"I can't believe him! You didn't blow up your potion on purpose!" Harry exclaimed angrily. He looked as though he wanted to give their professor a good kick.

"I didn't do anything," Neville said fiercely, "Malfoy dropped something in my cauldron when I got up to fetch another horned slug."

At this pronouncement, Harry and Ron grew even angrier. "I'll sort him out, just wait until he goes off somewhere without those ogres Crabbe and Goyle!" Ron exclaimed rashly.

Neville just shook his head listlessly. He knew any attempt to punish Malfoy would be futile; they were sure to be caught and punished again. "C'mon, I better get started on that essay."

Harry and Ron attempted to change Neville's mind as they headed for the library, enticing him with thoughts of a very injured and disfigured Malfoy. Neville, however, was quite adamant about his decision; he did not want to get Harry and Ron in trouble for trying to avenge him.

The three boys entered the library quietly, as Madam Pince would have their heads had they still been loudly trashing Malfoy and Professor Exanimis. Neville found an open table and began to work on his extra homework essay, for he had a slight inkling that Professor Exanimis might demand it sooner than next class. Harry and Ron continued to quietly discuss the best way to curse Malfoy.

"We're in the library, I'll bet we could find some great curses to use!" Harry whispered enthusiastically.

"If you're looking for books, mind grabbing a few potions ones for me?" Neville pleaded quietly, "I can't think of anything to write." He groaned softly.

Ron volunteered to find the books, wherever they might be. He began to wander the shelves and Neville continued to think feverishly, now aided by Harry. Suddenly, the two boys heard a muffled 'Oomf!' a few shelves over. It sounded very much like Ron's voice, and they hurried over, worried.

They found Ron two shelves over rubbing his arm. The very tall man from their first night at Hogwarts towered over him. "Yer a'righ', aren' yeh? He asked nervously. Ron nodded, looking up at the man.

"You're Hagrid, aren't you!" He exclaimed. "I remember hearing someone mention you in the common room one time…." Neville and Harry nodded, they remembered such a conversation as well.

"Yeh, tha's me," the man said nervously. "An' who're yeh lot?" He demanded quickly.

"I'm Ron Weasley, and that's Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom," Ron said nervously. Neville was slightly afraid of Hagrid, and wondered if Ron was as well.

Hagrid nodded and directed an appraising look towards Neville, who immediately turned his gaze to the floor, uneasy at the attention. After a moment, Hagrid nodded again and said, "Well, I'd bes' be off and let yeh get back to yer work." He turned around cautiously, trying very hard not to knock over any of the narrow shelves, and left the library. Neville, Harry, and Ron returned to their work table. Neville began to pack up his parchment and quills; he did not want to work anymore.

"Well," he said bitterly, "I hope whatever beat up Exanimis does it again. He deserves it!" Harry and Ron nodded, understanding Neville's anger. Harry looked especially thoughtful.

"I wonder what did that to him anyways. Surely there's not that much dangerous stuff at Hogwarts! I mean sure, there's the Forbidden Forest everyone's always talking about, and….." he paused, unable to think of any other dangerous places.

"There's that three headed dog," Neville reminded, "but I reckon the teachers know about it, and who'd want to pay it a visit voluntarily?" He said, grinning slightly at the absurd idea of anyone wanting to visit the vicious beast. Ron, however, looked pensive.

"Y'know, maybe it was the dog! It must be here for a reason, maybe it's guarding something that Exanimis wants!" he said quickly. Neville felt that idea was quite far-fetched, but Harry seemed to find it believable.

"That could be! Surely Dumbledore wouldn't bring such a beast here for no reason!" Neville still looked unsure. "Oh c'mon Neville, don't you think that's likely?" Neville considered the possibility for a moment. It could be possible.

"How about we ask Hagrid?" Harry suggested, excited at the prospect of a good mystery. "He was carrying a few books on dragons in the library, he probably knows something about the beast!"

Ron nodded excitedly, "I know I heard somewhere that he loves weird creatures! He probably gave Dumbledore the dog, so I bet he knows what it's guarding too!"

The two boys turned to Neville. "Oh come on Neville, let's try it!" Harry pleaded. Neville felt himself nodding, drawn by the prospect of learning more and potentially solving a mystery with his new friends.


	10. Chapter 10: A Visit to Hagrid

The three boys decided to visit Hagrid that very Saturday. Bundled up in an alarming number of cloaks, they left the castle immediately after lunch. It was an extremely windy November day, and the icy air stung the boys' exposed faces, making them miss the warm castle terribly. They soon realized one very important thing: they did not know where Hagrid lived.

"I reckon he's somewhere on the grounds…" Neville said, extremely unsure of himself and very cold.

"Some of the teachers don't live at Hogwarts though, so maybe he doesn't." Harry said in a very frustrated tone. He appeared to have forgotten it was his idea to visit Hagrid.

The boys combed the grounds of Hogwarts, looking everywhere they could possibly think of. At last, Neville spotted a large wooden hut near the edge of the forbidden forest. Surely this was where Hagrid lived!

"Look!" Neville shouted, now excited once again. Harry and Ron followed his gaze to the hut. Their wind burned faces split into grins as the three boys began racing towards it. They stopped at the bottom of a large hill, all breathing heavily. Neville had a stitch in his side, and could barely draw breath as he looked around the garden outside the hut.

"Wow!" Ron said, wheezing slightly. "Look at all this!" Harry and Neville nodded, for they, too, were impressed.

The garden was filled with a very large variety of massive plants. Neville could see at least a dozen pumpkins, each one big enough for a small person to fit inside. They were growing in a large pile, as though clambering over one another for a bit of sun. There were quite a few corn stalks that looked as though they could possibly be larger than Hagrid himself. There were even colossal strawberries the size of a grown man's palm. Neville grinned at Harry and Ron, for it was very clear that Hagrid lived here. He began walking slowly towards the large door of the hut.

"Go on," he said to Harry and Ron, "someone knock!" Neville was a bit nervous about what the enormous man would do when he found three young students alone on his property. He had seemed perfectly nice in the library, but Neville did not want to take any chances.

"I'm not knocking!" Ron declared, looking a bit anxious as well. He was obviously having doubts about their plan. "Maybe we could just write Hagrid a letter, or something," he suggested rather half-heartedly.

Harry groaned, then stepped forward. "Where's your sense of adventure?" he exclaimed as he knocked loudly on the door, which flew open at once to reveal Hagrid.

"What d'yeh want?" Hagrid asked sharply. He looked around for a moment before seeing Harry, Ron, and Neville, who all seemed extremely small and out of place among the enormous plants. "Oh, 's yeh lot again." He said gruffly, slightly confused.

"C-c-can we come in?" Neville asked boldly, daunted by his own daring.

Hagrid nodded. "Yeah, yeh migh' as well." He shuffled backwards, allowing the three boys to enter his cabin. They looked around, impressed once again. Hagrid's hut was filled with a large variety of curious and interesting things. Neville could see some strands of what looked like unicorn hair hanging from the ceiling, and at least three large meats, which were dripping blood. He saw a massive bed in one corner, and an equally large cauldron by the stove. A black boarhound was lying by the cauldron, a pile of drool near his face. Neville looked at Hagrid, who was staring suspiciously at the three boys.

"Why'd yeh three come down here today?" He asked them nervously, apparently presuming the worst. Neville looked at Harry and Ron, who were both at a loss for words. The three boys had not really thought about what they would say to Hagrid. Harry found his voice first, and, thinking quickly, stammered,

"Well, we've heard you like, er, magical creatures. And well, we three, um, we like them too. And we wanted to hear about some of your best creatures." Neville and Ron nodded quickly, attempting to pretend as though they cared deeply about magical creatures. Hagrid eyed them reproachfully for a moment, then seemed to accept Harry's story.

"Well, lemme think…. Have yeh heard 'bout 'em unicorns in the forest?" His eyes glimmered slightly, and Neville realized Hagrid was truly passionate about creatures. Not wanting to seem disinterested, Neville shook his head no, and sat down at Hagrid's enormous table. Harry and Ron followed suit. "Lemme tell yeh about the time…." He began to talk in earnest about unicorns, making tea all the while. Neville tried very hard to look attentive as Hagrid continued to drone on. The large man poured each boy an immense mug of the steaming liquid, then offered each of them a rock cake. Neville took one eagerly, for he was quite hungry. He bit into the cake quickly as Hagrid began to talk about unicorn blood, but immediately spit it out. The cake tasted both undercooked and burnt at the same time, and was, hence the name, hard as a rock. Neville placed the cake politely on the table and tried not to fall asleep as Hagrid continued to talk excitedly.

At last, Hagrid said abruptly, "It looks like I'm borin' yeh lot, I'll stop." He looked slightly put out, and Neville wondered if many students had come to visit his hut before to talk about creatures. He guessed perhaps not.

"No, we're quite interested!" Neville exclaimed quickly, trying to salvage their sleuthing opportunity.

Ron nodded, "It's just that we wanted to hear about some other creatures too! Like, ummm…." Ron looked frantically around the room, trying to think of something, anything.

"Dogs!" Harry exclaimed. Hagrid looked at him strangely. Ron and Neville nodded vehemently, understanding what Harry was trying to do.

"Dogs aren' magical creatures!" Hagrid exclaimed, laughing slightly. Harry frowned slightly, trying to decide what to say to get Hagrid talking about the giant three-headed dog they had come across in the castle.

"S-surely there are some magical dogs, right?" Neville asked in what he hoped was a conversational tone. "Come on Hagrid, you must have seen some, haven't you?" He looked beseechingly at the large man.

Hagrid paused for a moment. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something slightly forbidden. "Well….. There's one…. 'n the castle…."

The three boys looked at one another, bursting with excitement. "Tell us Hagrid!" Ron prompted loudly. Neville and Harry nodded, their faces shining with curiosity.

"Well, it's got, erm, three heads. An' it's giant." Hagrid said slowly, trying to decide what was an acceptable amount of information to share.

"What does it do, Hagrid?" Harry asked, blinking angelically at Hagrid. Neville and Ron tried to look innocent as well.

"Do? It, erm, doesn' do anythin'." Hagrid said quickly. Neville could see the man was clearly lying, for he had suddenly started fidgeting, and was not making eye contact.

"Oh please, Hagrid, you can tell us!" Neville coaxed quietly. "Is it…. is it guarding something?" Neville felt as though his stomach was filled with a parade of butterflies, he was so excited for Hagrid's response.

"Hidin' something? Course not! Go on now, yeh lot better be gettin' back up ter the castle." Hagrid stood up abruptly, shaking the table slightly. Neville's uneaten rock cake tumbled over the edge onto the wooden floor, where it was quickly snatched up by the boarhound. Hagrid did not seem to mind, for he was suddenly very occupied with shepherding the three boys towards the door. "Come back another time if yeh wan'!" He called as they trudged slowly back up the large hill to Hogwarts. Harry turned around and waved, and Hagrid closed his large wooden door quickly.

"It must be almost time for dinner, I'm starving!" Ron exclaimed, hurrying ahead. "Come on, it's so dark out here, and cold." Harry and Neville nodded, shivering. Hogwarts castle loomed over the boys, and they hurried towards it, enticed by the heat and light they knew would be found within.

"Well, I think that dog must be guarding something, since Hagrid went completely insane when we asked him." Harry pronounced thoughtfully as they entered the building.

"Now we just need to find out what it is." Neville said bitterly. He felt as though they had not learned nearly enough to make the visit to Hagrid worthwhile.

"I'll bet it's something really dangerous or valuable," Ron said quietly. "Otherwise it probably wouldn't be guarded by that dog. I hope Professor Exanimis didn't manage to steal it." He looked a bit worried, but Harry shook his head at once.

"I doubt he'd have been so down the last few days if he'd gotten whatever's being hidden." Harry speculated. "We'll just have to keep working." He said in a resigned tone. Neville groaned inwardly. He had thought this would be an exciting mystery that could be easily solved, but that was proving to not be the case. Neville began to feel as though they should give up. Surely Dumbledore had protected the mysterious thing well! And there probably wasn't much Harry, Ron, and Neville would be able to do anyways. After all, they were quite inexperienced.

With that abysmal thought, Neville followed Harry and Ron into the Great Hall, where they insisted on further discussion of the mystery. Neville ate quietly, nodding absentmindedly and feeling very dejected. He would have to continue to help despite his misgivings, for it did not seem as though Harry and Ron had any plans to give up.


	11. Chapter 11: Holidays with Harry

Over the next month, Harry and Ron gradually drew Neville back into the mystery. This was not due to their own skills of enticement as much as Neville's fear that they might not want to be friends if he did not help, but the two boys felt very accomplished all the same.

Christmas vacation was approaching, however, and the three boys had not learned very much new information. Hagrid seemed to be avoiding them slightly, for when they had gone to visit his hut again, the man did not answer. Neville could have sworn he saw a curtain move as they turned to leave, but he did not push the matter.

As the holidays grew closer and closer, Neville began to feel slightly depressed. He did not want to go home and spend Christmas break with his grandmother, for it was sure to be very dull there. However, Neville did not know anyone who was staying at Hogwarts, and did not want to be all alone.

At last, it was the night before Christmas vacation. Neville lay grouchily on his bed as the rest of the boys in his dormitory packed their belongings. They loudly discussed their plans for the upcoming vacation. Dean described the skiing trip he was planning to take with his family (Harry and Ron were quite amused at the idea of it, and laughed for quite a while, to Dean's frustration). Seamus was planning on spending a very loud Christmas with his boisterous extended family. Ron was going with his family to Romania to visit his brother, and Harry was staying home.

"Where're you going?" Dean asked Neville, trying to bring him into the conversation.

Neville sighed inwardly. He did not want the other boys' pity. "I-I'm staying here…" He said softly, a bit embarrassed. He looked up to see varying expressions of sympathy across the faces of Dean, Seamus, and Ron. Harry continued to pack, oblivious to Neville's pronouncement.

"I thought you were going with Harry!" Ron exclaimed, suddenly confused. Harry looked up at the mention of his name.

"What? Oh no, don't tell me I forgot!" Harry rolled his eyes in a joking manner. "I wrote Mum weeks ago and asked if you could stay with us, and she said yes, of course. She cleared it with your gran and everything, and I guess I just forgot to mention it. Sorry Neville! Is it too late?" Harry looked quite apologetic, and Neville forgave him at once.

"'Course not!" Neville exclaimed, catapulting off his bed and towards his trunk, "I'll just have to pack quickly." he said brightly. Neville began tossing things in and out of his trunk, his head filled with excitement. He was not going to be forced to stay at Hogwarts by himself after all! He had friends who cared!

Neville awoke early the next morning, his mind fresh with anticipation. Two entire weeks lay ahead, filled with the unknown. He lay in bed, grinning, as the rest of the boys woke up one by one. Neville ate a hurried breakfast with Harry and Ron, then dragged his trunk down to the large front doors of Hogwarts, where he was told to leave it for the time being. The three boys found a free carriage, which took them down the road to Hogsmeade Station.

Neville watched the little town approaching. The crisp air stung his nose and ears, but Neville was quite preoccupied by the fantastic view of the village. The short, squat buildings were decorated for the holidays, with wreaths on every large door and magical icicles bordering every roof. The ground was covered in snow, which looked so clean Neville thought it must be enchanted. Harry and Ron were similarly awed, and the three boys did not speak much until they reached the station, at which point the magical silence of the town was broken by the excitement of students.

"C'mon" Ron said, his trance broken at last, "we'd better find a compartment before they all fill up." Harry and Neville nodded, and followed their red-headed friend onto the train. They managed to locate an empty compartment, and hurried inside to claim it.

"Reckon Hogsmeade always looks this great?" Neville asked in wonderment as he sat down. Harry and Ron shrugged, unsure.

The train left ten minutes later, leaving Neville with an intense longing to explore the enchanted town further. He sat back in his seat and relaxed, listening to Harry and Ron talk.

"….and I reckon Charlie might show us a few dragons, if Mum doesn't tell him off." Ron was saying excitedly. Neville remembered that Charlie was the brother that Ron and his family were going to visit in Romania. "And Dad's even got time off work to come along!" Ron exclaimed happily.

"What does your dad do?" Neville asked curiously. His grandmother did not work, so he did not know of very many magical jobs.

Ron grinned. "He works in the Ministry! The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office!" he said proudly. "Dad loves it, he's a big fan of Muggle things."

Neville turned to Harry, who was lounging back in his seat, listening. "How about your dad, Harry?" Neville asked curiously.

"He's in the Ministry too, in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. He usually works with the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. He reckons it's a laugh, all those crazy spells and such." Harry laughed. Neville did not quite understand the humor, but chuckled politely all the same. "My dad and Ron's were working on a big case years ago where a boy accidentally set a car after his grandma, and became kind of friendly. That's how Ron and I got to know each other." Harry explained, though Neville had not asked.

Neville nodded, pleased to know at last how his two friends had come to know each other so very well. He felt a pang of envy, for his friends' fathers sounded so nice.

The rest of the train ride passed quickly. When the food trolley came, the three boys bought a variety of wizarding sweets, which kept them occupied for quite a while. Neville was very fond of the Pumpkin Pasties, and avoided the Bertie Botts Every Flavored Beans as though they were poisoned, for he had tasted several extremely nasty flavors in the past. The scenery outside the train grew darker, and the lights of the train flickered on. At last, after several intense games of Wizard Chess, which were all won by Ron, the train finally arrived at Platform 9 ¾ . Neville could see a large crowd of parents standing on the platform, craning their necks for a glance at their children. Neville felt very envious; he wished his parents were among the crowd.

Neville left the compartment with Harry and Ron, who were both extremely excited to be home. He followed as the two boys located their parents, who had already collected their luggage.

"All right, Neville?" James Potter asked, smiling at his houseguest. Neville smiled back and nodded, then turned to say goodbye to Ron. He then left the platform with Harry and his father, dragging his trunk carefully along behind.

Neville and the Potters left the station and turned down a dilapidated side street with no streetlamps. It was extremely dark, but Neville was not nervous, for he knew James was a very capable wizard. He was however, very curious as they passed dark house after dark house. They all looked deserted.

"Where are we going?" Neville whispered to Harry, his teeth chattering. He was beginning to grow very cold. Harry shrugged as James called the boys forward. He was standing on the doorstep of a dark home.

"Come on boys, or we'll never get home!" He said loudly, ringing the doorbell. Neville stood on the doorstep, fully expecting that the door would not open. He was, however, pleasantly surprised. The door flew open after mere seconds, and Neville could see a warm, inviting fireplace inside. A tired man who looked about James' age stood in the doorway. "Let's go now, Harry, Neville," James said, leading them inside.

Neville entered quickly, glad to be out of the cold. He was also quite surprised, for the house had appeared to be empty from the outside. He glanced up as the mysterious man closed the door.

"Neville, this is Remus Lupin, an old friend of mine. Harry, you remember Lupin, don't you?" James explained. Harry nodded and smiled at the man, who smiled wearily back. He then held out a hand to Neville.

"Good to meet you, Neville," the man said as Neville reluctantly shook his hand. He then looked up at James. "Fire's all ready." He said loudly.

James nodded, then explained to Harry and Neville. "I thought there might be a bit of a line at the popular wizarding fireplaces, so I asked Moony if we could use his." Neville nodded, understanding. He was slightly confused by the nickname James had used, but quickly forgot.

James helped Harry and his trunk into the fire, and his friend quickly disappeared as he shouted, "Potter Residence!" Neville began to pull his trunk towards the fireplace. James came over to help, then paused, remembering something.

"Are you coming for Christmas this year, Moony?" He asked Lupin. The man smiled sadly and shook his head.

"Can't this year, sorry Prongs. It's a bit too close to full moon." Neville looked at the two men, extremely confused. He wondered if they were speaking in some sort of code. James caught Neville watching and grinned.

"Don't worry about it Neville," he said, winking. He helped Neville and his trunk into the fireplace.

Neville shouted, "Potter Residence!" and felt himself leave Lupin's fire. In the few seconds of travel, Neville wondered whether he, Harry, and Ron would be as close someday as James and Lupin seemed to be. He sincerely hoped they would.

Neville arrived in the Potter's fireplace to find Harry waiting for him, along with a red-haired woman who he presumed was Harry's mother.

"There you are!" Harry said good-naturedly. "You took forever!"

"He was right behind you, Harry!" The red haired woman exclaimed, rolling her eyes at her son's outburst. "Hello Neville, I'm Lily Potter." She smiled at Neville, who smiled back.

"Th-thanks for having me, Mrs. Potter," Neville stammered, remembering his manners. Lily beamed, clearly happy with her son's new friend.

"I'll send your trunk upstairs dear, and then we'll have dinner." Lily took out her wand, gave it a flick, and Neville's trunk sailed out of the room. Neville followed Harry into the kitchen, where Farah was reading a book. She looked up as the boys entered.

"You're back already?" She asked Harry. Neville could not tell if she was joking or not, for her face remained quite impassive.

"Hullo," Neville said, trying to break the tension. Farah's face softened slightly; she clearly did not hate Neville as much as Harry.

"Hi," she said curtly, picking up her book to continue reading.

Neville spent a lovely dinner with Lily, Harry, and Farah. He greatly enjoyed the food, and even the constant quarrels between Harry and Farah. At last, stuffed, Neville and Harry retired to Harry's room.

Neville looked around. The walls were plastered with moving posters, most of which were of Quidditch players. The room itself was quite large, with lots of space. There was a big bed which looked quite comfortable, and an equally soft-looking camp bed that Neville presumed was for him.

The boys prepared for the night, chatting slightly about plans for the vacation. When it was quite late, they climbed into bed. Neville fell asleep at once. He was extremely tired after such a fantastic day.

The next few days passed extremely quickly in a blur of Christmas preparation. Harry and Neville helped decorate the Potter's Christmas tree, as well as the rest of the house. They also went into Diagon Alley to buy Christmas presents. Neville bought a large hat for his grandmother, and arranged to have it sent by owl that very night, which was Christmas Eve.

Neville was not generally very excited for Christmas, for it generally meant the arrival of multiple old family members who would need caring for. This year, however, Neville lay awake on Christmas Eve filled with anticipation. He felt as if the day could not come soon enough. He fell asleep well past midnight, and was awoken early by a bleary-eyed Harry.

"C'mon Neville, we've got presents, come and see!" Neville burst out of bed, joining in Harry's excitement. The two boys hurried down the stairs, making quite a racket. Farah and her parents soon followed.

Neville paused in the doorway, absorbing the fantastic sight that lay before him. The tree glimmered with silver and gold ornaments, and was surrounded by a large pile of presents in assorted shapes and colors. Harry began to paw through them at once, elated. Neville hung back slightly, for he was not expecting any presents at all, except perhaps from his grandmother. It came as a great surprise when Harry called out to him, "Look Neville, that present's yours! And those two as well!" Neville hurried over to his presents, excited. Harry and Farah were now beginning to tear the colorful papers off their gifts, and Neville joined in. He received a book from his grandmother, which looked extremely boring. He also received a very exciting book from the Potters, which seemed to be filled with useful spells that were not very well-known, and chocolate from Harry and Ron.

"Thank you!" Neville exclaimed, smiling James and Lily, then at Harry. They all grinned back at him, full of holiday spirit.

At last, all the gifts were open. Harry and Neville sat gawking over a Nimbus 2000, which Harry had received from his parents. Farah was reading a new book in her room, and Lily was preparing Christmas dinner. James entered the room, followed by a very handsome man.

"Harry, look who came by!" James called. Harry looked up, and then quickly stood and hugged the man.

"Neville, this is Sirius Black, my godfather." Harry said excitedly, looking fondly at the man beside him. Neville and Sirius exchanged greetings.

"Alright now Harry, tell me all about Hogwarts!" Sirius invited, sitting down on the couch besides James. Harry began to tell his godfather all about Quidditch and his classes. He even told the man about the mystery involving the three-headed dog. At the mention of this, the man grinned. Neville guessed he enjoyed a good mystery.

"Use your head, Harry!" He exclaimed. "You need information from Hagrid, but he won't talk to you. So you'll have to find a way to make him!"

Harry looked confused. "I don't reckon I can really force him, Sirius…." He said, unsure what his godfather meant.

Sirius laughed, "I don't think it'll come down to that. Come on now, think. Don't you know any time when Hagrid has to see students?" His eyes glimmered mischievously.

"Well….." Harry said, thinking. Sirius leaned forward. "I-I think I heard he supervises detentions, sometimes."

"There's your answer, then!" Sirius exclaimed. He seemed slightly melancholy, as though he wished he were still in school.

"Hold on, Sirius!" James exclaimed loudly. "Harry, you'll have to find another way. Hagrid's detentions aren't always the safest things in the world."

Sirius scoffed. "Oh come on James, where'd your sense of trouble go?"

James frowned, and Harry got up hastily to leave. Neville followed him out the door as Sirius and James began to argue a bit.

"Dad and Sirius used to be big troublemakers back in school." Harry explained. "Sirius still lives for that stuff, but Dad's a bit more cautious now. So what do you reckon? Should we try to get detention?" Harry's face was glowing; he appeared extremely excited.

Neville did not have the heart to tell his friend no. "I'll think about it," he said nervously. Neville did not want detention at all, after hearing it might be dangerous. However, it seemed like the only way to talk to Hagrid, and Neville did not want to disappoint his friend.


	12. Chapter 12: The Mirror of Erised

The rest of Christmas vacation with the Potters passed quite quickly, and was filled with excitement. James and Sirius, who had settled their differences, thankfully, took Harry and Neville into Hogsmeade village for a day. The two boys had a grand time exploring all the shops as Harry's father and Sirius drank butterbear in an inviting pub called the Three Broomsticks. Neville was beginning to love life with Harry's family. Though he was not their own child, Lily and James treated him like family. Neville began to stay up late at night, wondering if his own parents were anything like them. He sincerely hoped they were.

All too quickly, it was time for Harry and Neville to return to school. Neville was quite disappointed, for although he loved life at Hogwarts very much, it had been nice to spend time with a real family, and a true friend.

Lily saw the two boys to Platform 9 ¾ this time, because James was forced to go to work. He had said goodbye to the boys at home, giving Harry a hug and shaking Neville's hand in a most grown-up manner, which Neville quite liked. Lily was just as kind, and even gave Neville a hug before the Hogwarts Express finally departed.

The train moved out of the station with calls and shouts of hurried goodbyes. Harry and Neville, who had very nearly missed the train, dragged their trunks down the narrow hall in search of Ron. They found him in a compartment with Fred and George, as well as their friend Lee Jordan. The older boys helped Harry and Neville stow their belongings, then ignored them completely. Neville was very happy to see Ron again, even though his friend looked less than thrilled. He was wearing a very thick maroon sweater, and was constantly pulling and prodding it. Harry caught Neville watching curiously.

"New Weasley sweater, Ron? Harry asked, grinning. He turned to Neville. "Ron's mum makes them every year. I've gotten a couple myself, when we see them for Christmas." Neville felt a slight pang of jealousy for having not received a Weasley sweater, but quickly realized Mrs. Weasley had never even met Neville.

Ron groaned. "Mum's given me maroon again, and I can't stand maroon." Harry laughed at Ron's misfortune, and Neville felt obliged to join in. Privately, he felt Ron ought to be quite grateful he had a mother to make him sweaters. However, he would have never mentioned such an idea, for he liked Ron very much.

The train ride passed quickly. Harry, Ron, and Neville played several games of Exploding Snap with the older boys until the food trolley came, at which point they ate until their stomachs were full to bursting. At last, it was time to change into their robes once again. Neville quickly shed his muggle clothing and donned his wizard robes, which felt a bit tight after all the food. He could hear Ron exclaim, "Finally!" as he exchanged the sweater for a set of tattered robes.

"Oh come on Ron, you ought to appreciate dear old Mum's hard work!" One of the twins exclaimed, hearing Ron's mutterings.

The other twin nodded, grinning maniacally. "Course, she could always knit you some nice warm woolen underwear next year instead, if you ask her real nicely. Then nobody'd know what color it was!"

"I dunno, he could always wear the underwear over his robes… Might look like a bit of a git, though."

"No, I reckon he's always been a git. How about showing your true colors, Ron?" The twins left the compartment, roaring with laughter, as Ron turned bright red. Harry was laughing as well. Even Neville was chuckling slightly at the two boys' antics, though he felt quite bad for his friend.

The train arrived in Hogsmeade several minutes later. Harry and Neville spent the journey to the castle attempting in vain to point out all the different exciting places they had seen to Ron. Ron seemed extremely interested, and expressed much regret that he had missed the trip. So engaged were the boys that the cold air did not register in their minds, and they were quite surprised by the blast of warmth which greeted them as they entered the castle.

"Ah," Harry exclaimed, "It's great to be back!" Ron and Neville agreed quickly.

The three boys continued to the Great Hall, where a late dinner was being served. They ate heartily as fantastic vacation stories were swapped around them. All the nearby Gryffindors were extremely envious of Harry when they heard he had received a Nimbus 2000 for Christmas. Harry spent the next hour or so answering questions about his amazing new broom, and it was quite late when the three boys finally left the Great Hall.

In their few weeks of absence, the three boys had altogether forgotten their way around Hogwarts. Used to it as they might have been, they were now hopelessly lost. Neville knew no teacher would accept such an excuse, even if it was true. If they did not find the common room quickly, they would surely be caught and punished.

"Y'know, I reckon we have to go through here." Harry said, confident despite their predicament. Ron shrugged and followed his friend, Neville right behind. They pushed open a door and found themselves in an unused classroom. It was quite empty, except for a few stacked desks in the corner, gathering cobwebs and dust. There was also a very large mirror propped against a wall. As Harry and Ron scanned the room for hidden doors, Neville walked towards it. He felt a magnetic pull towards the mirror. There was strange writing around the outside, but it was in a strange foreign language that Neville could not understand. He elected not to contemplate it much, but to instead look in the mirror.

Upon doing so, Neville received quite a shock. He saw himself in the mirror, naturally. But he was surrounded by others. Neville turned around quickly, confused, but nobody was there except Harry and Ron on the other side of the room. He turned back to the strange looking glass. The Neville within appeared to be quite happy with himself. He was smiling at the people around him. Neville could see Harry and Ron beside him, as well as many other Hogwarts students. Everyone in the picture seemed quite content. Neville wondered if the mirror could possibly show the future.

"Look at this!" He called to Harry and Ron, all thoughts of being lost vanishing.

Harry and Ron hurried over, curious. Ron reached the mirror first. Neville stepped aside so he could have a proper look. He wondered what Ron would make of the strange image within.

"Blimey, it's me!" Ron exclaimed. Neville wondered why he was so shocked. It was, after all, a mirror, though understandably a strange one. Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Course it is, you're looking in a mirror!" He rolled his eyes at Neville, who stood nervously, waiting for Ron to say more.

"But it's not just me, Harry! I-I'm older. My family's in here too. They're all looking at me in kind of a weird way… Like they actually respect me. Like they're proud of me." Ron blushed, aware that he might have revealed too much of his feelings.

"Let me look!" Harry said excitedly. Ron obliged, moving over so Harry could have a glance in the mirror. "Hang on, that's not what I see!" Harry exclaimed, confused. "I see myself surrounded by you lot, and other people too. You're all looking at me like, like sort of a leader." Harry turned away from the mirror, his face slightly flushed.

"Think it shows the future?" Ron asked, excited at the prospect.

Harry and Neville shrugged. Neville tried not to show his hope that it was indeed the future, for he felt slightly embarrassed about sharing his scene and Ron. Fortunately, caught up in their own fantasies, the boys did not ask.

Quite reluctantly, they left the classroom. The corridors were quite deserted now, and Neville assumed they were late.

"C'mon," he said hurriedly, "We'd better go if we want to avoid trouble." Cautiously, the three boys wandered the halls until they found the entrance to their common room at last. They gave the password quickly, then entered.

Harry, Ron, and Neville did not talk much as they prepared for bed. Each was wrapped up in his own thoughts of the future.

The next day, Neville was still pondering the possibilities of the mirror. He greatly wanted to examine it further, and possibly see more. Because of this, Neville found it quite hard to pay attention that morning. Luckily, they only had History of Magic, with boring Professor Binns. He was a ghost, and Harry and Ron often hypothesized that his lessons were meant to bore the students to death as well. Neville did not take in a word of what the professor said all lesson.

When the bell rang for lunch at last, Neville did not turn towards the Great Hall with Harry and Ron.

"Where're you going?" Ron called as Neville hurried away, trying to remain unseen.

Neville turned around, thinking quickly. "Just, erm, forgot something back in the common room. I'll catch up." Harry and Ron turned and walked away as Neville breathed a great sigh of relief. He then proceeded to look for the unused classroom again.

Hogwarts looked much different in the daytime, and Neville wandered the halls for a while, not remembering the way. At last he stumbled upon it by pure chance. After checking quickly to make sure nobody was coming, Neville entered the room. He dropped his bag and ran straight for the mirror. The image inside was the same; Neville surrounded by people. All at once, Neville understood. Friends. That's what the mirror was showing him! Neville grew even more excited at the knowledge that he would have so many friends before long. He spent the next twenty minutes gazing at the image, fascinated by the thought.

At last the bell rang, breaking Neville's trance. He stood up at once, panicked, and ran for the door. It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon, and although it was quite boring, Neville did not want to miss a lesson.

He arrived several minutes late, panting. Hermione Granger gave him a pompous look, clearly annoyed. Thankfully, Professor Quirrell had not arrived yet, so no points would be lost. Neville headed straight for Harry and Ron, glad that they had saved him a seat. He sat down quickly.

"Thanks," he said quietly, still a bit breathless.

"Where'd you go?" Harry asked curiously. "You never showed up at lunch."

For a moment, Neville was not sure what to say. After a slight pause, he said lightly, "just lost track of time, I guess." His friends seemed to accept this excuse without question, and Neville was safe.

Professor Quirrell arrived at last, and spent the afternoon lecturing about dark creatures. He appeared to be quite afraid of them, and constantly paused to glance around, as though a dark creature might be hiding in the room with them.

Neville felt as though the lesson could not end soon enough. Glancing surreptitiously at Quirrell, he began passing notes with Harry and Ron. Judging from the amount of giggling and muttering in the room, Neville assumed the rest of the class was doing the same. The bell finally rang, and the first years fled the classroom at once.

"That has to be a record in boring lessons." Harry said bitterly. "Great first day back."

Neville nodded, preoccupied with deciding when he would be safe to visit the mirror again. He decided to sneak out after the other boys were in bed. It would be quite risky, but Neville had to see his future again.

He did not eat much at dinner, and sat quietly. Harry and Ron kept shooting cautious looks in his direction. At last, Harry spoke.

"You seem a bit weird tonight, Neville," he said fidgeting slightly. "Something wrong?"

Neville shook his head. "Must just be a bit tired," he said, though he felt quite the contrary. Harry accepted this at once, but Ron still looked a bit worried. He leaned in and spoke quietly to Neville.

"Are you thinking about the mirror again, or something?" He looked slightly interested as well as fretful, and Neville quickly denied his allegation, worried he would ask to come along.

Neville half-heartedly joined the conversation, trying to put his friends' worries at ease. It appeared to work, and the rest of the night passed smoothly.

At last, Neville lay in bed, wide awake. He was still wearing his shoes, which felt quite uncomfortable. When his bedside clock struck midnight, Neville cautiously eased out of bed. The rusty springs squeaked slightly, but no one awoke. Neville crept down the stairs, pausing at the entrance to the common room, alert for any signs of older students. There appeared to be none, and Neville hurried to the portrait hole. He climbed out quickly and proceeded down the hall, attempting to hide in the shadows, where he believed he would be safe from sight.

Neville found the room much more quickly this time. He hurried to the mirror straightaway, not bothering to scan the room for signs of life. This was his mistake. No sooner had Neville caught sight of himself in the mirror than a soft voice said from behind,

"Back again, Neville?"

Neville turned around at once to find Professor Dumbledore. His face was partially lit by the crescent moon outside, allowing Neville to see him quite clearly. He gulped, unsure of what to say. "I-I'm sorry sir, I just…."

"Liked what you saw, right?" The old professor sighed wearily as Neville nodded, embarrassed. "That's perfectly understandable. Many great witches and wizards have become enchanted with this mirror. I expect you have realized what it does?" Dumbledore looked expectantly at his young student. Neville blushed.

"Does it, does it show the future, professor?" He asked quietly, hoping with all his heart that the answer would be yes. To his dismay, however, Dumbledore shook his head.

"Alas, it does not. The Mirror of Erised shows your greatest, most heartfelt desire. You see yourself surrounded by equals, friends, because you seek companionship. Your young friend Ron sees a proud family, for he constantly feels like a disappointment among more talented and exciting siblings. And Harry sees himself a leader, an inspiration, for he craves popularity and praise. All three desires are quite different, but if I'm not mistaken, they share one important idea. Can you spot it?" Dumbledore asked, looking expectantly at Neville.

Neville thought for a moment. "We all see other people in the mirror with us," he said at last, hesitating.

To his great pleasure, Dumbledore smiled. "Very good, Neville! Perhaps the three of you will help one another to achieve your desires, for they are all quite manageable. Now, I must tell you, the mirror will be moved tomorrow. Many have wasted away in front of it, and I would not wish that upon anyone. Off to bed now, Neville, and we'll speak no more of this!" Dumbledore stood, smiling, as Neville hurried out of the classroom without a backwards glance, relieved to have escaped trouble.

Neville hurried back to Gryffindor tower at once, his mind reeling. The mirror might not show the future, but Dumbledore appeared to think his longing was quite achievable. Neville sincerely hoped he was right.


	13. Chapter 13: Mysteries and Misdemeanors

Neville tried very hard to forget about the Mirror of Erised over the next few days. However, he constantly found his thoughts returning to the mirror, and Dumbledore's wise words. Neville found himself subconsciously dissecting his best friends' actions, wondering if they were influenced by their personal desires. He felt as though he understood them better, having learned what they wanted most.

It was only when the boys turned back to the mystery of the three headed dog that Neville truly forgot about the mirror. Harry and Ron drew him in with their plans, and all thoughts of the mirror were swept aside.

Though Harry's father seemed adamantly against the idea, Harry was quite thrilled by the prospect of purposefully getting detention in order to speak to Hagrid. Ron seemed slightly hesitant about the idea, apparently because he thought it was quite a risk. Neville wondered if the true reason was that Ron did not want to further disappoint his parents. However, he did not blame Rom in the slightest, for Neville did not want to get detention himself. The three boys sat in the library, discussing the possible outcomes.

"It's just one detention! We won't do anything real bad, just enough to make Filch angry!" Harry exclaimed quietly, slightly exasperated with his more careful friends.

"But it's sure not to work, Harry!" Ron whispered, sighing as loudly as he could without disturbing the peace of the room. "What if Filch doesn't give us detention with Hagrid? Or, or..." Ron's already-quite voice trailed off. He was unsure what else could go wrong. Harry smiled, sensing that his opposition was waning.

"If it doesn't work then we'll figure something else out. Come on, everyone gets detention sometime!" Neville wondered if Harry really cared about the mystery, or if he just wanted the ability to brag to the other first years about having a detention. Neville decided the mystery enticed Harry more.

"What if we lose Gryffindor a lot of points, though?" Neville whispered, worried. Surely this would call his extravagant friend back to earth. Harry, however, was not to be deterred.

He stared at Neville, getting slightly mad. "Look." He said slowly. "There could be something really important being guarded by that dog. And we have to learn more so we can try to stop Exanimis from getting it! It's, it's, it's our duty! As Hogwarts students!" Harry's eyes shone with excitement.

Neville was quite sceptical that it was really their duty to save the day. He felt under-qualified for such a daunting task. However, he did not want to jeopardize his friendship with Harry, and undoubtable Ron as well, for he seemed to have been converted to Harry's mindset. Neville gulped, his throat dry. "Alright. But we have to plan everything out exactly. No leaving everything up to chance."

Neville quite regretted his decision as Harry bounced slightly in his seat with glee. However, he felt an obligation to help his friends.

The three boys spent the next few days planning every last detail of their mission. There were quite a few opportunities for failure, but this did not seem to dampen their enthusiasm. At last, they were finished. Neville was quite nervous about their plan. He could sense the other boys had fears as well. However, there appeared to be an unspoken pact among the three of them, that they would not back down.

Harry had felt the easiest way to be punished would be getting caught after hours. Ron agreed quickly, and Neville gave in as well, even though he did not like the ominous feel of the castle after dark.

The three boys sat in the common room, waiting for it to empty at last. Several of the older students were hard at work, glancing suspiciously at what first years were still doing up. Harry, Ron, and Neville tried to do homework, or at least pretend, in Neville's case. He did not understand their Transfiguration assignment, but did not want to call attention to himself or his friends by asking for help. He sat hunched over his book, the ink drying on his quill, waiting.

Finally, the last tired fifth year stumbled up to bed, bleary eyed. It was two in the morning. Neville looked at Harry, and saw Ron doing the same, for he had become the unspoken leader of this expedition.

Neville greatly hoped Harry would admit defeat for the night, and suggest they try again another evening. It came as great surprise when Harry said, "well, let's go!" quite excitedly. Neville was slightly afraid of the maniacal expression upon his friend's face. It was not a cruel expression, surely, but Neville was wary all the same. He felt as though his friend craved trouble a bit too much for his own good. However, Neville trusted Harry very deeply, and felt his friend would not let this temptation get out of hand at the expense of his friends' wellbeing.

The three boys crept silently out of the portrait hole, glancing around cautiously. Each seemed to forget the purpose of their mission was to get caught, and tried to be as silent as possible. They had made a plan, and intending to follow it.

At last, Harry stopped in front a very old and tarnished suit of armor. Neville looked at it nervously, imagining the ferocity of the knight who had once worn it.

"Right now, are you ready?" Harry whispered, his green eyes sparkling in the slight candlelight.

Ron gulped loudly. "Guess so." He said bravely, though Neville could detect a slight quiver. Neville felt a very strong desire to run straight back to Gryffindor tower, and forget all about this plan. However, he could not forsake his best friends.

Harry took out his wand, considered it for a moment, then placed the wand back in his robes.

"I reckon it'll make more noise if I just kick it over." He said thoughtfully.

Ron and Neville nodded, approving this idea They felt it unwise to disagree now, in the height of their misdemeanor.

Harry pulled his leg back, then kicked the armor as loudly as he could. Neville could hear the clanging echo down the deserted hallway like a warning. His body tensed up, waiting. Nobody appeared.

"Reckon nobody heard?" Ron asked, almost happily.

"Better try the wand." Harry said, making an executive decision. He pulled out his trusted magical instrument and pointed it at the armor. "Wingardium Leviosa!" He said firmly. The helmet rose off the armor at once. Harry had mastered the Levitation spell months ago, and enjoyed using it whenever he could. Ron and Neville had caught on as well, though Neville's still wobbled quite a bit, to his chagrin. Harry paused for a moment, the helmet high above them in the air. He looked quickly at Ron and Neville, who were staring fearfully up at it. At last, Harry released the spell. The helmet plummeted down at an alarming rate, bouncing off the breastplate of the armor, leaving a sizeable dent, and onto the floor..The three boys gaped at one another in dismay. They obviously had not meant to cause lasting harm. Even Harry looked afraid now.

"I-I think we better run." He said quickly, deciding they would be punished too severely if caught now. Ron and Neville were quite prepared to follow this command, and the three boys raced down the hall at once.

They turned corner after corner, trying desperately to put as much space between themselves and the armor as possible. Just outside the library, however, they ran into Peeves the poltergeist. Neville drew in breath sharply. He attempted to halt before reaching the ghostly man. Ron, however, had not seen Peeves as quickly, and ran out of the shadows before he could stop.

"What do we have here?" Peeves cackled, pleased with his discovery. "Oh my, could there be wee little first years out of bed? Naughty naughty!"

"P-please," Neville stammered, "d-don't turn us in!" He was quite afraid of this unpredictable man.

"Oh now, I couldn't deprive lovely old Filch the prize of punishing you!" The poltergeist soared the opposite way down the halls, shouting "First years out of bed, come catch the little firsties!" He disappeared, laughing maniacally.

Neville looked at Harry and Ron in dismay as they began to run. Harry looked especially worried.

"If we get in terrible trouble, I'm really sorry." He said in a panic as they sprinted down a staircase.

"Don't worry mate, you didn't make us do this. We're your friends." Ron said, smiling reassuringly despite his worries.

It was at this tender moment that Filch burst through a concealed hallway.

"There you are! Oh you are in trouble, yes... Come with me, now!" Filch appeared to be quite thrilled with himself. His lanky, colorless hair was damp with sweat from the chase, but he walked with a slight bounce in his step, despite his limp. He led the boys to Professor McGonagall. Neville could hear both Harry and Ron gasp beside him as Filch rapped fiercely on the door.

It opened at once to reveal Professor McGonagall in a very old-fashioned dressing gown. He hair was still in its severe bun. She looked sternly down at the three boys.

"Caught them out of bed, Professor." Filch said excitedly.

"What were they doing?" Professor McGonagall asked sharply, glancing at the three boys yet again.

Filch faltered for a moment. "I don't know, Professor, but they were trying to run away. I found a damaged suit of armor, but that was Peeves. That wicked poltergeist!" Filch cursed the troublemaker angrily.

Neville did not dare look at Harry and Ron, though they were undoubtedly thinking the same thought: they would not be punished for the armor incident! Neville suddenly felt he could breathe more easily. Whatever punishment they would received, it would pale in comparison to what might have happened, had Filch known they had disfigured the armor.

"You three, inside. Thank you Filch, you may go." Professor McGonagall shepherded the three relieved boys into her office. Neville was still quite nervous, for he knew they could still be severely punished.

"Explain yourselves," Professor McGonagall said sharply, breaking Neville's worried trance. He was unsure what to say. Ron appeared to be similarly mute. Even Harry seemed adamant against talking. Neville swallowed sharply. He knew he would have to say something. He felt the strong need to prove it to himself and his friends; he could be brave, when he had to.

"P-professor, we just..." Neville had acted rashly. He did not know what to say. What was an appropriate excuse? He cast his eyes around the room, desperate for something, anything to save him. His eyes fell upon an extremely tall bookshelf. Neville swallowed again. "We were trying to get into the library." he said, as confidently as possible. Neville could hear Harry and Ron shifting slightly beside him, but they knew enough not to speak.

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "The library? At this time of night?" Neville could feel her razor-sharp glance upon his face, staring into his head, seeing his thoughts, finding the truth. He forced himself to nod, unable to look at her steely gaze one moment more. Thankfully, Ron spoke.

"We forgot to look at the time, Professor." He said feebly, privately cursing his own attempt to save them from severe punishment.

Professor McGonagall looked superciliously at the three ashamed boys standing before her. Neville hazarded a quick glance, and saw she was no longer glaring at them as fiercely. His heart began to slow down slightly.

"I am giving you each a detention." She said sharply at last. Harry, Ron, and Neville all nodded as she continued. "And I will be taking fifty points from Gryffindor. You have ashamed our house tonight. Do not let it happen again." Professor McGonagall walked crisply to the door and opened it, allowed the three boys to leave.

Neville hurried out the door behind Harry and Ron. His heart still beat quickly, his stomach still felt as though it was filled with Hagrid-sized butterflies. They were safe.

"Blimey, that really didn't go as planned." Harry said, dismayed at the outcome of their night. Ron and Neville just grinned.

"Reckon it all turned out alright in the end, though." Ron said contently, walking with a slight bounce in his step.

Neville felt as though he ought to say something to make his friend feel better. "Besides, if our detention is with Hagrid, it'll all have worked." He said optimistically. He knew it was highly likely this would not be the case, but he chose to believe anyways, for his friend's sake.

Harry perked up considerably at these words, and walked cheerfully back to Gryffindor tower with Ron and Neville. Along the way, the three boys expressed their extreme delight in escaping more severe punishment.

It was quite late when they arrived back in the common room, and all three boys were exhausted. Neville was last to stumble up the stairs, and he fell asleep quickly, without a second thought about his extremely eventful evening.


	14. Chapter 14: Into the Forest

Neville awoke the next morning feeling surprisingly happy. Their mission the previous night may not have been a smashing success, but Neville felt as though it had brought the boys closer together. Even the loss of points did not both Neville very much, for fifty points was nothing compared to what Exanimis could do in a single Potions class. All three boys felt they had gotten off rather lightly, and were extremely grateful for it.

They were, however, a bit nervous that Professor McGonagall might have more in store for them. Her class was first thing that morning, and all three boys were on alert for anything out of the ordinary. They arrived early, a first, and sat down quietly, doing their best to appear regretful about what happened the previous night.

Professor McGonagall strided into the class two minutes before the bell, carrying a pincushion. "This morning I will be assessing what you have learned thus far. Most of you have successfully turned a matchstick into a needle. Today you will be turning the needles back into matchsticks." She waved her wand in a controlled flick, and the pins sailed out of the cushion and towards the students. Neville could hear some of the girls intake breath, but he was not extremely nervous, for he knew the needles would land on the desks.

When Harry, Ron, and Neville's needles arrived, they set to work quickly. Neville was most nervous, for he had only managed to transfigure his matchstick once, and it had not so much resembled a needle as a pointed matchstick. Neville began muttering the spell at once, Harry and Ron following. Neville was quite disheartened two minutes into the lesson, when he heard a very shrill voice call,

"Professor, professor, I'm done!" Neville did not even need to look up to know it was Hermione. He cursed her quietly for being such a know-it-all, then rolled his eyes at Harry and Ron, who were each choking back a laugh. Professor McGonagall hurried over to inspect Hermione's matchstick. Finding it satisfactory, she was given a piece of parchment and told to transfigure it into a paperweight.

The rest of the class worked feverishly, groaning every time Hermione exclaimed she had finished. By now, she was quite far ahead, and Professor McGonagall did not have many more tasks for her. Instead, she gave Hermione thirty points for her hard work, and instructed her to read. Neville grinned at Harry and Ron; Hermione may be insufferable, but she had at least earned Gryffindor quite a few points.

The rest of the lesson went surprisingly well. Harry managed to transfigure his needle ten minutes before class ended, earning five points. Ron finished three minutes later, and was also awarded points. They sat quietly, respecting Neville's concentration. He was still working. The needle had become matchstick-shaped, but it was still undoubtable metal. Neville felt quite embarrassed. There were other students still working, but Neville felt singled-out among his friends. He felt stupid.

Just as the bell rang, Neville managed it. The silver matchstick finally changed to wood! Neville was overjoyed and shocked by his accomplishment. He turned to bring his finished product to Professor McGonagall. In doing so, however, Neville caught sight of Hermione. She was sliding her wand back into her robes while looking furtively at Neville. As she caught him watching, she turned around quickly.

A thought formed in Neville's mind. Had Hermione been helping him? Had she cast a spell from across the room? Neville tried to catch her eye as he walked past, but she ignored him. He wondered why Hermione had helped him, if she did. Neville thought she must have, for he felt it quite a slim chance that he had managed to transfigure the needle himself. Neville decided Hermione must have grown impatient with his countless failed attempts, and done it herself to show off. He cursed her constant need for academic attention, feeling rather annoyed. Then, however, Neville wondered if Hermione had possibly done it to be nice. Maybe she felt sorry for what had happened between them with the troll, and in Charms class. Perhaps it was an apology. Neville was more confused than ever as Professor McGonagall accepted his matchstick. He wanted to ask Hermione, but decided not to. He did not want Harry and Ron to get the wrong idea.

Neville followed Harry and Ron to the door, still pondering the matter. As he was about to leave, however, he heard Professor McGonagall call. "Mr. Longbottom!" in her sharp, loud voice. Neville turned around. Harry and Ron stood in the doorway nervously as Neville walked back to Professor McGonagall. "You, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley will be serving your detentions tonight with Hagrid. You will meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall at eleven." With this pronouncement, Professor McGonagall swept out of the room. Neville hurried back to Harry and Ron.

"We did it! We've got detention with Hagrid!" He exclaimed, surprisingly happy. Harry and Ron's faces broke into grins. It struck Neville how funny it was, that they were thrilled to have detention.

The rest of the day passed extremely quickly. Neville had never been so excited to receive punishment. He, Harry, and Ron suggested possible ways to bring the subject to the three headed dog again, preferable without Hagrid being suspicious.

The three boys sat in the common room that night, staring at assorted clocks. Each minute seemed like an hour. They each felt a bit tired, undoubtedly because they had been up nearly all of last night. Neville tried to stifle his yawns as the fire burned lower, casting the common room in shadows of darkness. At last, Harry stood up.

"It's time to go," he said simply, grinning in the soft firelight. The three boys each put on a cloak, scarf, and mittens, for they feared their detention might be outside, and it was quite cold. They proceeded down to the entrance hall, not bothering to keep in the shadows this time. The building was silent, except the the occasional wind that beat against against the windows with alarming ferocity. Neville felt slightly nervous, even though he was not alone.

At last, they reached the entrance hall. Filch stood waiting, the maniacal expression on his wrinkled face visible in the faint light of the lantern he held. "You're late," he said grouchily in his thick sandpaper voice. Harry, Ron, and Neville did not speak. Filch led the three boys outside, trying to scare them with stories of the torture he used to be permitted to inflict on students. Privately, Neville thought them quite scary, but did not express this feeling. His face was beginning to grow numb with cold, and Neville wished he were back in the dormitory, in his warm bed. Harry and Ron looked quite determined to fight the freezing temperature, however, and Neville decided to follow their example.

The three boys followed Filch down the steep hill, slipping slightly on patches of ice. At one moment, Neville felt his feet slide out from under him, and landed on the cold, hard ground. Ron and Harry each stuck out a gloved hand to help him up.

At last, they reached Hagrid's hut. It looked quite bright and cheery inside, and Neville found himself hoping they might be permitted to just wait in the hut as their detention. However, this was not the case. Hagrid came lumbering around from the back of the house, carrying a crossbow. His large boarhound dutifully followed behind.

"Here you are, Hagrid." Filch said creepily. "I'll be back at one, if any of them are still alive." He smiled in a sinister fashion as Harry, Ron, and Neville tried extremely hard not to appear scared.

"It's yeh lot!" Hagrid exclaimed, stepping closer. "I didn' think yeh'd get detention with me, yer jus' firs' years. Ah well, let's go." Hagrid approached the forest. Harry and Ron followed bravely after him. Neville trailed behind, feeling as though his constantly beating heart might burst out of his chest.

Hagrid paused at the edge of the tree. "Lemme explain what we're doin'. There's a unicorn ou' there who's hurt. I've seen the blood. We've gotta find the poor creature, an' try ter help it. Jus' follow me and you'll be fine." Neville looked at Harry and Ron, their faces a mirror image of his own. Fear was etched across them. Hagrid surged into the forest, and the three boys felt obliged to follow.

Harry, Ron, and Neville were forced to jog in order to keep up with Hagrid's enormous stride. The freezing air whipped around Neville, making him slightly light-headed. At last, Hagrid paused. On the forest floor was a pool of silver liquid. Neville thought it looked quite beautiful, until Hagrid say, "Tha's unicorn blood. Some think it's pretty ter look at, but if yeh drink it, yer life'll be cursed. It'll save yeh from death, but I reckon it's not worth it." Neville did not quite understand, but nodded anyways.

"Well, the poor beast can't be far now." Hagrid exclaimed happily. "Harry an' Ron, yeh take Fang and go tha' way. Neville, yeh'll come this way with me. Set up red sparks if yer in trouble." Hagrid propelled the large dog towards Harry and Ron, who set off at once, extremely scared looking. Neville watched them walk away, fearing for their lives. He followed Hagrid the opposite way scanning the sky nervously for any red sparks. Hagrid forged ahead, trying to find the unicorn. Suddenly, Neville saw sparks in the distance.

"Hagrid!" He called sharply, pointing. Hagrid turned around at once and saw. His large body grew rigid.

"Stay here!" Hagrid called as he began to run back through the forest. He wove through trees and stomped through bushes with alarming agility. Neville watched until he could no longer see the man. Then he waited.

Neville tried extremely hard not to be scared. However, his imagination ran wild. The gnarled tree roots looked like the Dark creatures on the walls in Professor Quirrell's classroom. The wind rustling through the trees sounded like unknown footsteps. Neville turned around as quickly as he could, trying to make sure nothing could creep up behind him. It was at that moment he saw it. The unicorn was lying on the ground, it's beauty marred. Neville rushed towards it, seeing all too late that there was a cloaked figure at its side. Neville gasped as his scar began to throb terribly. He tried to back up, but tripped over a tree root. The cloaked figure crept towards Neville, who trembled in fear, knowing this was the end.

At that moment, Neville heard a loud thud from behind, followed by the sound of hooves. The cloaked figure began running in the opposite direction, away from Neville. He turned around, expecting to see an even more frightening beast. However, instead, he found himself looking at a pair of hooves. Neville got up quickly. There in front of him stood a very strange creature. It had the body of a white horse, but the torso and head of a human. Neville did not know what it was. The creature, however, appeared to know Neville instantly.

"Neville Longbottom." It said in a sorrowful, deep voice. "I am Firenze. You are not safe here. Come, I will take you back to Hagrid." Neville nodded, trusting the creature, though he still did not know what it was. Without warning, Firenze picked Neville up and placed him so he was sitting on the horse-end of the creature. Neville did not know where to hold on as Firenze picked his way through the underbrush.

"W-what was that?" He stammered, looking back at the small clearing where the cloaked figure had just been.

"Ah, Neville Longbottom. It is the one we all fear, humans and others alike." Firenze said sadly.

"Who's that?" Neville asked curiously, not understanding.

"It is one who was destroyed years ago. One who is coming back, who needs the unicorn blood to survive. Think, Neville Longbottom, who that might be."

Neville racked his brains, thinking hard. He gasped. "It-it couldn't have been... You-Know-Who?"

Suddenly, Hagrid, Harry, and Ron came into view. Neville sighed with relief. Though he was sure Firenze would not harm him, he was glad to have found Hagrid and his friends. Hagrid picked Neville up and placed him on the ground. He hurried over to Harry and Ron. Harry was supporting Ron's left side, for he had twisted his ankle slightly. Neville was relieved, he had feared the problem was much worse. The two boys looked at Firenze, fascinated, as he spoke to Hagrid. The centaur turned to Neville, nodded slightly, then trotted off into the forest once again.

Hagrid lead the entourage out of the forest, now walking more slowly so Ron could keep up.

"Blimey!" Harry exclaimed as he walked along the uneven forest floor, tripping slightly. "I can't believe you met a centaur!" He looked thrilled. Neville smiled slightly, inwardly glad that Harry had told him the creature's name at last. He was preoccupied, however, with what Firenze said.

"Wish I'd gotten to ride on his back!" Ron said grumpily as he hopped over tree roots. Harry laughed at his candor, and Neville joined in half-heartedly.

Neville was still pondering the possibility of You-Know-Who being in the forest when they at last arrived at Hagrid's cabin. Filch was waiting to bring them back to the castle.

Neville was quite preoccupied with his thoughts, and was quite surprised, ten minutes later, to realize he was in the dormitory. Neville prepared for bed, though he was not at all tired. He felt as though he was in terrible danger. Voldemort was in the forest, coming closer and closer to Hogwarts, and to Neville. He felt as though an internal clock was ticking, counting down the time he had left before Voldemort would be upon him, before he would be killed.


	15. Chapter 15: The Conundrum Intensifies

Neville told Harry and Ron about his strange encounters from the previous night as quickly as he could. He explained about the hooded figure, and who Firenze had said it was. Both boys were shocked. They stopped walking in the middle of a corridor, frozen with fear.

"You-Know-Who…. In the forest?" Ron asked, breathless. He stared around, wide eyed, as though Voldemort might be hiding behind a painting.

"Neville, are you sure?" Harry asked, slightly skeptical despite his worry. He did not want to believe it could be true.

"I saw the cloaked figure. And Firenze basically told me it was him. Plus, my scar hurt. It has to be, don't you see?" Neville was quite worked up. He knew there was danger outside, and his friends appeared hesitant to believe.

"If you're scar hurt, it must be him." Ron confirmed, nodding. "It only makes sense." He said, looking more upset than ever.

"Hang on!" Harry exclaimed loudly. Several passing students turned to stare curiously at him as they walked by. "Sorry. But wait. Neville, you said your scar hurt with Exanimis earlier this year, right?" Harry's face was creased with lines of worry as Neville nodded, confused.

"Yeah, so what?" He asked, unsure what Harry was saying.

Ron gasped. He clearly understood Harry's train of thought. Neville felt slightly left out. "Don't you see, Neville? Exanimis, he must be helping You-Know-Who or something!"

Neville's jaw quite literally dropped. Ron's pronouncement made utter sense to Neville. Surely the scar on his forehead hurt because of Voldemort. So Exanimis must be involved with him. "Oh no." He gasped, feeling quite breathless.

Harry nodded grimly. "But Neville, I don't think that's all. I bet the thing the dog is guarding is for You-Know-Who! It's probably something that will make him stronger, because he's living off unicorn blood. So Exanimis is probably trying to steal it for him."

Ron and Neville looked at Harry in complete shock. The pieces of their mysterious puzzle were finally coming together, in the most horrible way imaginable. The man who wanted to kill Neville was just outside the castle, hoping to become strong again.

Neville gulped, afraid. "And if Exanimis gets whatever it is, and You-Know-Who gets strong again…." He could not bring himself to finish such a terrible thought. The two boys understood, and nodded sympathetically. They looked at Neville with such sorrow that he felt he might already be dead.

"We've got to tell Dumbledore or someone, now!" Ron exclaimed, his face full of fear.

Harry shook his head. "Mate, no one will believe us now. We know it's true, but it'll just sound like suspicions to a teacher. We need to find out what's being guarded, or something."

Neville and Ron nodded, understanding Harry's point of view. As if one person, the three boys turned and sprinted towards the library. They forgot all about breakfast, all about the lazy Saturday they were planning on enjoying. The only thing that mattered was the mysterious object being guarded by the three headed dog.

Two hours later, Harry, Ron, and Neville had not found anything of use. They agreed whatever the mysterious thing was, it must have the power to strengthen Voldemort. They searched as many books as they could think of, high and low. Neville head began to throb terribly, his scar prickling slightly.

"I reckon it's not use." He said in dismay. "There's just too many books to search, and nothing that fits." The book he had been paging through thudded closed, dust bursting from its old worn seams.

"I just don't get it." Ron said, exhausted. "How can we not find anything that would return someone's strength or keep them alive or anything?" Neville nodded. Harry, however, was adamant about their search.

"We have to keep trying! This could be a matter of saving lives!" Though his words may have been a tad dramatic, they certainly were effective. Ron and Neville opened their respective books and began to read feverishly once again.

Neville was just turning a page as he saw a small figure approaching. A small, bushy haired figure, to be exact. Neville groaned silently, it was Hermione. He wondered why she was coming to talk to them. Before Neville could even kick Harry or Ron, she was upon them.

Hermione stood over their hunched shoulders, weighed down by an extremely heavy book. She opened her mouth to speak, then, after a moment's pause, decided not to. She placed the book on their table with a large thud, then turned and ran away quickly.

Harry and Ron, who had both looked up at the noise, stared at Neville, confused. He leaned in to investigate the book. Hermione had left it open to a very tattered, old page. It was covered in spots of what appeared to be pumpkin juice, and the writing was barely legible. Neville attempted to read it. Harry and Ron sat quietly, their faces full of expectation. At last, Neville looked up.

"I've got it!" He whispered excitedly. "Look, the Sorcerer's Stone! It makes something called the Elixir of Life, which can keep you alive to matter what! This is it!"

Harry and Ron's eyes grew wide with wonderment. "I can't believe… Hermione Granger, of all people…." Harry said, unable to articulate his thoughts.

Ron nodded."How d'you reckon she even knew?" He asked curiously.

"Probably just heard us talking." Neville said dismissively. "But this is it! We have all the information now, we need to tell someone!" He stood up quickly and looked expectantly at the other two boys, who followed suit.

They attempted to replace their books on the proper shelves, then hurriedly left the library.

"I reckon we should try to find Dumbledore. But I don't know where his office is." Harry said as they walked briskly down the Transfiguration corridor. They turned a corner and nearly ran into Professor McGonagall.

"What are you doing?" She asked them sharply, a suspicious glint in her eyes.

Neville looked at Harry and Ron. He attempted to communicate to the two boys that they should tell Professor McGonagall. Thankfully, Harry appeared to understand. He spoke for the group.

"We're trying to find Professor Dumbledore, Professor." He said timidly, without any of his usual excitement.

Professor McGonagall looked slightly scandalized. "And why do you need to see him so urgently?" She asked loudly, now even more suspicious.

Neville felt as though he ought to speak. "Professor, we-we know about the Sorcerer's Stone. And we think someone might be trying to steal it." He said frankly, with none of the grandeur Harry or Ron might have used.

The Professor's eyes widened with shock. However, she appeared to collect herself extremely quickly. "However you found about the stone, I do not know. But I can assure you that it is extremely safe." She turned crisply and walked the opposite way down the hall. The three boys looked at one another in dismay.

"If she won't believe us, I don't reckon anyone will." Ron said, dismayed. "What're we going to do?"

Harry looked up, his jaw set in determination. "We'll have to protect it ourselves. Come on, we need to talk to Hagrid. We have to get him to tell us more." Ron and Neville looked at one another, quite skeptical that they could ever prevent a wizard as powerful as Voldemort from obtaining the precious stone. However, Neville knew it was their only option. He swallowed slowly and nodded.

Harry turned on his heel at once and led the way to Hagrid's small hut. Though it was an unusually warm day for February, the door and windows were all tightly shut. Neville could see a long train of smoke being expelled from the rough chimney.

Harry forged ahead, tearing down the steep, dewy hill. Neville and Ron followed behind, understandind the extreme importance of this interrogation. Harry courageously pounded on Hagrid's large door. It did not open. Neville looked at his friends, panicked. If Hagrid was not home, they would have nowhere else to turn. Harry pounded again, more urgently. Ron added to the clamor by kicking the door very sharply several times.

"Hagrid!" The three boys called in despair. Neville was beginning to lose all hope; there would be no escape this time. Voldemort would return to power, and there would be no safe place left after that. Neville imagination began to run away from him as Hagrid's door suddenly flew open with alarming speed.

"Wha's all the noise out here?" Hagrid asked, annoying. "Yeh lot again? I'm busy!" Hagrid began to close the door, but Harry had thought ahead. He darted quickly into the hut, and Hagrid, sighing greatly, allowed Ron and Neville to enter as well.

"Wha' is it this time?" He asked grouchily. The three boys looked at one another. Harry seemed ready to talk, but Neville felt a need to speak for himself.

"Hagrid," he said nervously. "We know about the three headed dog, and the stone it's guarding. We-we think someone's trying to steal it." Neville braced himself for a loud gasp. However, it never came. He looked up slowly to see the great man smiling patronizingly down upon him.

"Firs' years! Always think summat's wrong! The stone's safe, there's plenty o' stuff guardin' it!" Neville felt his heart sink once again. Nobody would believe them. Harry, however, was smiling triumphantly. Even Ron had perked up a bit.

"Other things are guarding the stone too, Hagrid?" Harry asked, excited once again. Neville began to understand Harry's line of thought, though he did not like where it appeared to be going.

Hagrid's beady eyes narrowed; he apparently did not like to imagine what Harry might do with such information either. "Never yeh mind, now!" He exclaimed loudly, turning around to glance in the fire.

Neville curiously tried to see around the large man into the small fireplace, but was not able to do so. Hagrid caught him looking and stood up. "Off yeh go, now!" He said in a slightly threatening tone. Harry, Ron, and Neville hastened to obey.

They hurried towards the door, trying to glance surreptitiously in the fire while doing so. Hagrid's large size, however, was blocking them from view. They pulled open the large wooden door once again and stepped out into the sunshine.

"What d'you reckon he's doing?" Ron asked, bewildered by Hagrid's strange behavior.

Harry frowned, his forehead creased with thought. "I dunno." He said at last.

Neville stood motionless outside the hut, unnoticed by either of his friends. He felt as though his life was ending at that very moment. He could sense his impending doom. Soon, he believed, there would be no more Neville Longbottom. He gulped, trying to be brave, as Harry and Ron turned around.

Ron frowned. "What's up, Neville?" He asked, quite concerned.

Neville tried to blink back tears. He wanted to be brave, truly. "I-It's just…. I'm going to die." He said quite simply. Harry and Ron's faces flooded with sympathy.

"Neville, don't worry!" Harry started to say. Ron cut in.

"We're going to make a plan, Neville. If the teachers won't believe us, then we'll stop Voldemort ourselves." Neville was slightly startled. Ron was generally the voice of reason to Harry's insane plans. Now, however, Ron seemed to believe they could truly beat one of the strongest wizards of all time. Neville forced a smile and nodded, pretending to believe his friends.

Harry turned away, looking at Hagrid's closed hut once again. He turned around quickly, eyes shining.

"Look!" He exclaimed, pointing to a window. "The curtain's open a bit. Let's see if we can spot anything!"

Ron followed him dutifully to the window. Neville trailed behind, still fretting as his friends peered through the small bit of window.

"Blimey, what is that?" Harry breathed. Neville was slightly surprised; Harry generally knew what things were.

"It's a dragon egg!" Ron exclaimed as he turned away from the window. "Charlie showed me a few over break!"

Neville frowned slightly. Though still preoccupied with Voldemort, he had just remembered something. "I thought dragon breeding around here was illegal?" He asked, confused.

Harry looked at his friends gravely. "It is." He said, quite simply.

The three boys looked at one another, shocked Hagrid would commit such a transgression as dragon breeding. They began trudging back up to the castle, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Neville returned to his predicament with Voldemort. He did not want to die without a fight, but did not know any useful spells, really. Unknown to Neville, Harry and Ron were considering Voldemort as well.

At last, Ron spoke, breaking the silence. He turned to Neville, face glowing. Neville wondered how he could possibly be excited at such a tense time. "Neville!" he exclaimed, trying and failing to keep his voice low. "I just realized something! If other teachers are guarding the stone, Exanimis will have an impossible time reaching it! They're all smart; surely they'll have good enchantments and such."

Harry nodded, his face filled with relief. "And even if Exanimis is smart enough to get through them, he'd have to get through the dog first. And I don't reckon Hagrid's told anyone how to tame that beast."

Neville felt himself relax slightly. "I-I guess you're right." He said, relieved. The lines of worry that had been evident on Neville's face slowly disappeared. He felt comforted once again. Surely none of the teachers would reveal how to get past their enchantments, least of all Hagrid. Neville felt safe; Exanimis and Voldemort would not be able to get the Sorcerer's Stone.


	16. Chapter 16: Danger Approaches

Neville spent the next few months worrying constantly. He felt as though Voldemort might burst into the castle at any moment, his full power restored. Neville knew the teachers would not consciously allow the stone to be taken, but he felt it possible that Exanimis could find a way. Though Neville greatly despised the man, he still acknowledged his considerable skill.

Harry and Ron often saw Neville grow quiet, clearly becoming apprehensive. They often attempted to cheer him up with mindless activities, but it generally did not work. Neither boy could think of a fool-proof way to prevent Voldemort from gaining control of the stone, and they knew Neville could not be content until someone did.

For a while, the three boys did not discuss the stone. Perhaps they believed that if the subject did not come up, the problem would simply go away. However, they each knew this was not the case. Finally, Ron could not take their silence over the situation.

"Look, I think we've got to talk about the stone. We have to figure out who might be guarding it, or something."

Harry nodded. "You're right. Much as we might not want to think about it, we'd better."

Neville nodded mutely, but did not offer any insight to the situation. Ron cleared his throat, unsure where to begin.

"Well, McGonagall probably did something… And Flitwick, probably, they're both Heads of House."

"Professor Sprout too, then." Neville muttered, still unconvinced of the stone's safety despite this impressive list of teachers.

Harry gasped quietly. "And Exanimis!" He exclaimed fearfully. "He's head of Slytherin!"

Neville's partial trance was broken. If Exanimis was helping to guard the stone, he might have information about how to get past the other obstacles!

"Oh no…" Ron muttered anxiously. "But he definitely doesn't know how to get past the dog." He said, trying to be confident.

Harry nodded, confirming this statement. "You're right. If he did, I don't reckon he'd have gotten those injuries on Halloween."

Neville frowned. He was slightly worried. "But Hagrid's not exactly predictable, is he? After all, he told us about the dog."

"But he wouldn't dare betray Dumbledore, would he?" Harry asked, still believe Hagrid would surely remain united with Hogwarts.

"But what if he though Exanimis was innocent, or something?" Ron asked, agreeing with Neville's skeptical view of Hagrid.

"Or he might have been bribed, or tortured, or something." Neville supplied nervously. He sincerely hoped he was wrong, and Hagrid would never tell.

"Who would torture someone as big as Hagrid? And the only thing they'd be able to bribe him with was weird creatures, and most of them are illegal….." Harry's voice trailed off as his mind began making the connections at last.

Ron groaned, understanding as well. "The dragon!" He exclaimed nervously.

"What about the dragon?" Neville asked, not understanding. He felt a bit jealous despite the worry growing inside him. "Hang on, you don't think…."

Harry nodded grimly. "I doubt Hagrid got the egg himself, because someone would see a giant man running off with an egg like that. And he must have gotten it fairly recently, or else it would have hatched already. Exanimis must have given it to him in exchange for information!"

"Hang on," Ron said, still not quite wanting to believe this could be true, though it made sense. "We already agreed Hagrid wouldn't tell anyone on purpose. Surely he would think something was strange when Exanimis suddenly tempted him with a dragon egg for information!"

"I dunno, he probably really likes dragon." Neville said nervously. He did not understand how anyone could really like dragons, least of all someone who was accommodating one in a wooden house.

"Y'know, I think we'll have to ask him." Harry said, looking up. "I know Hagrid probably won't want to listen, but he let some things slip last time."

Neville considered their options. They could either trust Hagrid, and potentially allow Exanimis to get the stone, or they could confront Hagrid, find out if the stone really was in danger, and act accordingly. Neville knew which decision made sense. He was slightly afraid of what Hagrid might do if he became angry, but Neville felt it might be the lesser evil compared to Voldemort. He nodded. "Let's go now." He said resignedly.

Harry led the way once again, since it had been his suggestion. Ron and Neville followed behind. Neville felt very nervous. He felt as though there would be no way to prevent the stone from being stolen.

The walk to Hagrid felt instantaneous, for Neville had been much too wrapped up in his own thoughts to remember any of it. It was a very warm April day, yet Neville was not having an enjoyable time in the sunshine. Harry knocked loudly on the door, as he usually did. Ron waited a moment, then kicked the door. The three boys could hear quite a bit of thumping and crashing from within. Neville desperately wanted to turn back. He had forgotten about Hagrid's dragon, it was sure to be quite large by now, and would probably enjoy a lovely snack of first years.

"M-maybe we should come back another time." Neville suggested nervously. Harry and Ron turned around, their faces set with expressions of grim determination.

"Neville, we can't." Ron said simply. "This is too big to just let go." Harry was about to chime in as the door finally opened a crack. Neville could see a bit of Hagrid's tangled black beard, now scorched slightly, and one small beady eye.

"Yeh again!" He exclaimed, seeing the three unavoidable first years on his doorstep. "I'm busy, come back another time!" He closed the door quickly. The three boys could hear a faint shout from within the hut.

Neville looked desperately as his friends. He could not decide what he wanted to do. Neville did not want to talk to Hagrid, but he also did not want Voldemort to return. Harry and Ron appeared conflicted as well.

At last, Neville made a brave decision. He stepped up to Hagrid's large front door and began pounding furiously. He could see Harry and Ron's slightly shocked expressions, but could not hear their warnings over the harsh noise of a fist on the wooden door. Neville's arm began to ache terribly. He knew he would have to give up soon, if Hagrid did not open the door. He pounded again, his fear of Voldemort spurring him on and on. Harry and Ron stood idly by, unsure what to do. They had each tried to pound with Neville, but he had not allowed them to do so. It felt like his battle, and his alone. Neville felt as though he had to get Hagrid to open the door, or there would be no chance in stopping Voldemort. He felt as though the outcome of this challenge would be an omen for the larger result looming ahead.

At last, just as Neville felt as though his arm might fall off, the door flew open. Neville, whose weight had been upon the door, fell inside. He lay sprawled at Hagrid's massive feet.

Hagrid sighed. "Wha' is it?" He said, understanding at last that he could not just shoo away the persistent students.

Neville stood up quickly as he remembered the full reason of why they had come. He looked around for a dragon, but did not see one. The furniture, however, had all been bitten, torn, and scorched to pieces. It left no doubt in the three boys' minds; Hagrid most certainly was housing a dragon.

"Hagrid," Neville said bravely, commanding his voice not to quiver. "We know you have a dragon."

This time, the man did react just as Neville suspected. His eyes grew extremely wide, and he began to play with his beard. "I never- I don'-"

Harry sighed loudly. "Hagrid, please! We know you do, we saw the egg through the window months ago!"

Ron nodded. "And your house is all scorched!" He added helpfully. The three boys looked expectantly at Hagrid, awaiting his confession. He was speechless for several moments. Neville figured it was likely he could not decide whether to try and lie or to tell the truth. At last, Hagrid spoke.

"Alrigh'… I guess yeh're righ'. Yeh aren' going to tell no one, are yeh?" He asked nervously, eyeing the three boys with a mixture of suspicion and pleading on his large face.

Harry decided to push their advantage slightly. "We won't tell. But we want to know something. Do you promise to tell us?

Hagrid considered for a moment. "I'd have ter hear the question firs'." He said diplomatically.

"How did you get the dragon?" Neville asked quickly. All three boys looked expectantly at Hagrid, who appeared to be even cowering slightly.

The man perked up slightly. "Guess I can tell yeh that," he said, relieved. "I won it down in the Hog's Head. Place in Hogsmeade."

"From who?" Ron asked excitedly, hardly believing their own good fortune.

Hagrid paled slightly. "I dunno, he kep' his cloak pulled down low. I couldn' see nuthin' of him." He said nervously, hoping the boys would accept this answer.

Harry nodded. He had, once again, become the unofficial speaker for the three boys. "Did he ask you anything before he gave you the dragon?" he asked, sensing they now had an advantage over the large man.

"Yeah, he asked me about creatures I take care o' and such. I told him abou' Fluffy, 'course." The three boys looked at one another, confused. Hagrid hastened to explain. "Fluffy's the three headed dog." He said quickly, sensing the boys' leverage.

Neville swallowed. He felt a need to ask this last question himself. "What did you tell him about F-Fluffy?"" he asked, stammering over the absurd name for the giant beast.

"Well, I told him Fluffy was a bit rambunctious, but yeh jus' need ter know how to keep him quiet. The poor beas' loves music, see, an' it puts him straigh' ter sleep." Hagrid looked quite proud of himself for realizing how to tame the vicious dog.

Harry, Ron, and Neville were not at all pleased to hear this. "Thank you," Harry called as they left. "We promise not to tell!" he called as they hurried away from the hut. Neville could see bits of smoke coming from behind the wooden building, and realized where Hagrid had temporarily hidden the dragon.

"Well, it was just as we thought." Ron said unhappily.

"At least Hagrid isn't working with Exanimis. He just thought it was a normal person he was telling." Harry said, trying to rationalize the man's behavior.

Neville nodded. "But Exanimis knows. And he's probably just waiting for a good time to steal the stone." His stomach dropped slightly with this pronouncement. Harry and Ron looked a bit sick as well.

"We have to try and talk to Professor McGonagall, and ask to see Dumbledore again." Harry declaimed quietly, veering off the main corridor and into the Transfiguration department.

The three boys located the professor's office, for they had forgotten slightly where it was between this visit and the last. Neville and Ron looked at Harry to knock, which he did.

The door opened at once to reveal Professor McGonagall. "What is it?" She asked sharply, already guessing why these three first years were visiting her on a Sunday afternoon.

"Professor, we're sorry to disturb you, but please, we really need to see Professor Dumbledore. It's urgent!" Harry begged, his eyes wide and his face angelic.

Professor McGonagall looked superciliously at the three boys. "The headmaster is away." She crisply, closing the door in their faces.

Neville began to walk away. He knew badgering a professor would lead to quite a large punishment.

"At least she told us that much!" Ron said, attempting to look on the bright side of their desperate situation.

Harry groaned. "But Dumbledore's gone. This is terrible."

Ron and Neville looked at Harry, confused. Neville could understand it was bad, but Harry made the headmaster's absence sound like the worst possible thing that could happen.

"Voldemort always feared Dumbledore! If he's gone away, Voldemort and Exanimis won't have any worries stealing the stone and using it!" Harry looked quite forlorn.

Neville sighed. "I-I don't think there's anything we can do. We just don't know enough."

Harry stopped walking, his expression perking up slightly. "Hang on. We do know one thing," he declared. "How to get past Fluffy."

Neville and Ron looked at one another, understanding Harry's maniacal plan. Neville did not like the idea one bit, but knew it might be their only chance of survival.


	17. Chapter 17: Leap of Faith

None of the three boys wanted to go after the stone themselves, least of all Neville. Scared as he was of Voldemort, he felt as though they might meet a worse fate by attempting to get to the Sorcerer's Stone.

"That is completely mental, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, shocked by his friend's latest idea.

Harry shook his head. "It may be a little, but think about it! With Dumbledore out of the way. You-Know-Who'll could come marching into the castle for the stone. We can at least try to get there first, and, and, and hide it, or something! It's the only chance we have!"

Neville knew Harry's risky plan might be fueled by his desire for leadership. However, he felt as though his friend's need to be brave and protect everyone was more prominent at this time. Neville nodded boldly, consenting to go after the Stone.

Ron sighed. "If you two're going, I guess I'd better." He said grouchily, clearly a bit annoyed to be pressured into such a dangerous situation.

Harry grinned slightly, despite their difficult journey to come. "Excellent." He said. "We'll go tonight, after everyone's asleep."

After great consideration, the boys decided not to wait in the common room like last time. They did not want to risk any late-night stragglers preventing them from leaving early enough to beat Exanimis to the stone.

That night at dinner, Harry, Ron, and Neville did not eat much at all. Neville picked at his steak and kidney pie, unable to eat a bite, for his stomach was full of massive butterflies. At last, he stood up, unable even to look at food any longer. Harry and Ron followed him to the library, which they had agreed would be the least suspicious place to wait for a while. Each boy selected a book and sat down to read it to pass the time. Neville did not take in a word of the Herbology book he had selected.

At last, eight o'clock approaching, the three boys left the library. They knew it would seem extremely suspicious if they did not do so. Harry led Ron and Neville into a deserted boys lavatory.

"Ugh, we have to wait here?" Ron asked, disgusted by the smell.

"Unless you can think of someplace better." Harry said stoically. "We'll just have to hope Peeves doesn't show up."

For once, luck was on their side. The three boys were able to wait quietly in their respective cubicles, uninterrupted, until half past nine. It was at that point that Harry cautiously exited, followed quickly by Ron and Neville.

They crept down the hall, alert for any signs of life. Neville felt as though his heart was a loud drum, and its noise would lead Filch or Peeves towards the three boys before they could act. Thankfully, Neville's perception of his beating organ was not quite accurate, and the three boys were able to make their way to the third floor quite uninterrupted.

"Alright." Harry said, pausing just outside the locked door. Neville could hear loud snuffling and pawing from within. "Hagrid said the beast needs music. I don't suppose anyone has a spare instrument on them?" He asked hopefully. Ron and Neville shook their heads. "Bad luck, guess we'll have to sing then. _Alohomora!_" The door swung open, and Harry bravely crossed the threshold, followed by Ron, and then Neville.

Upon entering, the boys began humming tunelessly, each too self-conscious to sing. Neville thought it sounded quite terrible. The three-headed dog, however, appeared immediately entranced. Neville found himself incapable of looking away from the massive creature. Large teeth were barred into a growl on all three faces, drool dripping out of each mouth. Neville was quite disgusted.

At last, the beast lay down, blinking sleepily. Finally, after quite a lot of humming, it fell asleep. The three boys began to scour the room, still humming, for any sort of door. They looked high and low. At last, Ron waved his arms. Apparently, he had found something. The other boys hurried over, breathless from all the humming. Ron pointed to a trap door lying partially underneath an enormous brown shaggy paw. The three boys reluctantly began to move it, finding it difficult to hum through their physical exertion.

At last, the door was free. Ron and Neville pried it up and stared inside. There was a large, dark pit within, with no visible end. Harry motioned for himself to go first, looking only slightly worried. Both Ron and Neville nodded, too nervous to volunteer themselves. Harry jumped down. Neville strained his ears over the humming, trying to hear Harry's voice.

"It's alright! Come on down!" He heard his friend call faintly. Ron made as if to follow, and Neville did not dissuade him, though he desperately did not want to be left alone with the beast. Ron jumped, leaving Neville alone. He felt as though his feet were glued to the floor, and he would not be able to move. Neville stood for several minutes, humming tunelessly, his voice quite raw. He knew if he did not jump soon, his voice would give out and he would have to flee, leaving his friends behind. Neville made up his mind; he could not desert the people who had been so kind to him. Neville took a deep breath, stepped forward timidly, and jumped.

Neville could feel himself falling, falling. He felt as though he would never reach an end. At last, however, he landed with a very mild thud, considering the great height he had fallen from.

"Took you long enough." Harry said, joking slightly. "I can't believe the dog slept through all that humming." The other boys laughed as Neville felt an extremely curious sensation around his ankles. He looked down to find a vine wrapped tightly around them.

"Um, I think there's something weird about this plant…" He said nervously, unsure of what to do. Harry and Ron looked down to find themselves held fast by the plant as well.

"Oh no, now what?" Ron asked, groaning. He began struggling, trying to keep the moving feelers from wrapping around his body.

For once, Neville felt useful. He remembered what plant this was! "Stop! It's Devil's Snare!" He yelped to his friends. "If you move a lot, it'll kill you quicker." He said nervously, trying to stay as still as possible.

Ron began shouting for help, extremely scared. "Neville, how d'you kill it?" Harry shouted over Ron's screams.

"I think it likes dark places!" Neville yelled, hoping desperately one of his friends knew a spell that would produce light, for he certainly did not.

Ron was still shouting. "Then someone cast a spell and get us out of this!" he yelled loudly, quite frantic. Neville felt an extremely strong urge to shout as well, but he felt as though he must remain calm.

"I think I remember something!" Harry shouted. Neville could see him struggle to extract his wand, then mutter a spell. Flames appeared on the surface of the plant. For a moment, Neville was worried they would now be in danger of burning to death, but they died down quickly. The Devil's Snare, however, had already released its captives. Harry, Ron, and Neville struggled to stand up, then proceeded down a long corridor.

Neville felt as though they walked down the hall for hours, though it was really only several minutes. It was quite cold and dark, and all three boys shivered slightly in the gloom. At last, they came upon a door. Harry paused before opening.

"We got through Hagrid, and that was probably Sprout. So I reckon we've got at least three more to go." Harry said glumly, pushing open the large door cautiously.

The three boys entered a large room. Neville could hear a strange tinkling noise, and looked up to find what appeared to be a large colony of birds. He looked back down to find Harry and Ron slowly crossing the room to another door. They each tried to open it, and Harry tried the Alohomora spell, but nothing worked. They proceeded back to Neville, stumbling slightly over three old broomsticks that were lying on the ground.

"They look a bit like keys, almost." Ron said hesitantly, looking up once again.

"Of course! I bet we've got to catch one! But which? There must be thousands of them." Harry asked, feeling a bit depressed.

The three boys craned their necks, staring upwards. At last, Neville saw something a bit queer. "That one has a broken wing, see?" He said loudly, pointing to it. "Could be the right one."

"It's worth a shot!" Harry exclaimed, loping over to the broomsticks. He picked up the centermost one, and Ron and Neville took the other two. Harry kicked up into the air. The keys were everywhere, flapping here and there, preventing Harry from reaching the one he needed. Ron clambered onto his broomstick without a second thought and zoomed into the air to help. Neville stood on the ground, unsure what to do. He was quite uncoordinated on a broom, but perhaps he could be a slight asset in this situation.

At last, Neville climbed hesitantly onto the broomstick and flew shakily after his two friends, who were trying to corner the key. Together, they tried again and again, unable to catch it. At last, Harry zoomed across the room, snatching it quickly as he passed by.

"That was brilliant!" Ron exclaimed as the three boys landed. Neville climbed off his broom rather unsteadily, and followed Harry and Ron to the door. Harry inserted the still-struggling key into the lock. It fit perfectly, and Neville could hear an audible click as the door swung open. Harry released the key and entered slowly.

As he did so, Neville could see torches flicker on from within. He trailed behind, still a bit wobbly from the broom. Neville looked around. They appeared to be standing on a giant chess board.

"There's the door!" Harry exclaimed, making to hurry towards it.

"Wait!" Ron called sharply, stopping his friend. "The chess pieces must be here for a reason. I bet we've got to win in order to get across."

Harry looked around for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Well, I'll take over for the-"

Ron cut in. "I'm better at chess, Harry. Let me do this." His jaw was set in determination.

Harry paused for a moment, considering this. Neville thought it must be a difficult decision to give up such a chance at control, for he knew Harry greatly enjoyed and desired leading everyone. "Fine." He said grudgingly at last.

Ron began to command the chess pieces and his friends. "Alright then, Harry, go be a castle. Neville, you can be a bishop. And I'll be a knight." Three of the black chessmen left the board, leaving spaces for Neville and his friends to take their place. Neville stood on his square, shaking with terror. A white pawn moved forward, and the game began.

Neville lost track of the game very quickly. Ron was quite an adept player, and kept his friends safe as he commanded pieces across the board. Neville had received quite a shock the first time a piece was taken, for it had been hit over the head, but Ron appeared to show no fear, darting around the board. At last he paused. Neville attempted to assess the situation, but could not. Harry, however, gasped.

"Ron, don't even think about it." He commanded. Neville looked at his friend, confused. "He's planning to sacrifice himself so we can go on!" He shouted.

Ron turned around, his face set once again. "I'm not going to die, it's just stone. Sure, it'll hurt, but…. Look, it's the only way. You have to move on and stop Exanimis. That's the important thing here. Not me, the stone." Neville could see the slight longing in Ron's eyes, the thirst to prove he could sacrifice his health for the greater good. Neville swallowed hard and nodded. Ron turned around and walked forwards, then sideways. Harry and Neville watched in horror as the stone queen approached their friend. She lifted her pale arm and hit Ron across the head. He collapsed at once, clearly knocked out.

Neville made as though to move towards his friend, but Harry shouted "NO!" before he could do so. "We're still playing." He explained apologetically. He moved forward nervously, standing right in front of the king. Neville could see Harry looking up into its blank face. "Checkmate." He said loudly.

The king took of its crown and threw it down at Harry's feet. Both boys hurried immediately over to Ron.

"That's definitely a pulse." Harry said, feeling Ron's wrist. "He'll be alright. Come on Neville, we have to keep going!" Neville was unwilling to keep moving. He felt terrible for Ron, having to give himself up like that. At last, however, he stood. Neville knew the more important thing, the stone, lay ahead. He and Harry walked onward, through the door.

They entered a brightly lit chamber. It smelled terrible. Neville pulled his robes up over his face, trying very hard not to breathe. A large green troll was lying on the ground, motionless. Harry and Neville ran past it and through the door on the other side.

"Good thing we didn't have to deal with that." Neville exclaimed.

Harry looked at his naïve friend. "But Neville, that means someone's already been here." Neville's face paled, he had not thought of that.

The two boys stepped forward into an empty room. Neville looked around for the stone, but did not see anything. There were just blank walls. He turned around to find that the door from which they had entered had disappeared as well.

"What is this?" Neville asked nervously, expecting a trap. He stepped forward, and writing appeared on the wall opposite them.

_To move on you must pass me_

_It's not as hard as it might seem._

_But keep in mind, there are two options_

_One may go forward or all retreat._

_Make up your mind and take a breath_

_For you must be quite willing._

_Extend what you perceive right now_

_For this is magic, but also yearning_

The room was silent as both boys read the riddle. Harry gasped. "I get it!" He exclaimed.

Neville looked at his friend, relieved, for he did not understand in the slightest. "What is it?" He asked breathlessly.

"It's like Platform 9 ¾, see? You have to pass through the brick wall!"

Neville looked extremely skeptical. It seemed like a trap. "Are you positive?" He asked Harry.

He nodded. "Trust me. It says we have to extend what we perceive, and right now we see a brick wall, so it must not really be one. Don't you see, Neville?" Harry's green eyes shone behind his glasses, staring hopefully into Neville's face. At last, Neville nodded, understanding.

"I-I guess we better go forward." He said timidly.

"I think the wall might only let one person through for a while, because it talks about two options. Neville, you'll have to go on by yourself."

Neville turned around to look at his friend. "I can't!" He exclaimed loudly. "I'm no good at magic! I'll never be able to stop him. Harry, you have to do it!"

Harry, however shook his head. His green eyes were filled with sadness and longing. Neville could see he sincerely wanted to go on, but something appeared to be stopping him. "Neville, it has to be you. You're the one who defeated You-Know-Who as a baby! If anyone can do it again, it'll be you!"

"But I can't do it!" Neville cried, almost in tears at his friend's lack of understanding.

"You can, Neville, you can!" Harry shouted, getting quite worked up. "You may not think you're a good wizard, but you are! You're at Hogwarts, aren't you? Neville, if you don't go on then Exanimis is going to get the stone, because I'm certainly not going to." Harry turned around to face the wall they had entered from.

Neville gulped, extremely scared. He nodded, feeling as though he must take this risk, to prove to himself and his friends that he was a daring Gryffindor. He had not thought about it for months, but here was the decision. Here was his chance. He had to take it, for himself and everyone else, or they would suffer the consequences of Voldemort's return. "Alright." He said at last. "I'll do it."

Harry turned around to look at his friend. "You'll defeat him Neville, I know it." Neville searched his face for traces of doubt, but could find none. He felt a rush of gratefulness for his faithful friends.

"Thank you." He managed to say. He watched as Harry ran towards the wall and disappeared through it, back to Ron. Neville turned around and stared at the brick wall ahead. It looked completely solid. He took a deep breath, his heart racing. This was his chance.

Neville ran towards the wall, sure he was going to crash, sure it was a trick…. But it was not.


	18. Chapter 18: A Shocking Discovery

Neville emerged from the now-solid wall into a room full of flashing light. For a moment, Neville considered the possibility of endless wizard fireworks of some sort. Then, however, his eyes fell upon two figures. One was Professor Exanimis, easily distinguished by his set of long lavish magenta robes. The other, surprisingly, appeared to be Professor Quirrell. Neville was quite shocked, for the turban-clad professor was doing quite a fair job of dueling his co-worker. He assumed that Professor Quirrell must have put the puzzle together as well, and come down to stop Exanimis.

Neville quickly took out his wand, feeling as though he ought to do something to help Quirrell. He could not think of a single helpful spell, however, and stood helpless, watching the two men fight. He observed as colorful bolts of light carrying dangerous hexes missed their mark again and again. They bounced off walls and shield charms with alarming speed, and Neville was almost hit by one that had gone astray. Neville began to grow desperate, for it seemed as though Quirrell was getting a bit frazzled. However, just as this though crossed Neville's mind, a curse soared straight over Professor Exanimis's outstretched hand, hitting him directly in the chest. The extravagant professor flew backwards several feet, hit the wall, and tumbled motionless to the floor in a heap of heavy robes.

Neville was shocked. "P-professor!" He exclaimed, extremely impressed with Quirrell's prodigious skill. "That was brilliant!" He grinned a bit, despite the obviously-tense situation. His smile faded as the weary professor turned around.

"At last, Neville Longbottom." There was not a trace of Quirrell's usual stutter in his cold, calculating voice. "I've been waiting for you to arrive. Unfortunately, that idiot got in the way slightly." Professor Quirrell shot a murderous look towards the feebly stirring Professor Exanimis, then flicked his wand, causing the man to hit the wall once again. Neville winced.

"Y-you've been waiting for me? You wanted me to come?" Neville asked, now extremely bewildered.

Quirrell laughed. "Of course I did, you insolent boy! And now that you're here, my Master can regain his true power!"

Neville suddenly became fearful. "B-but I th-thought….." he stammered, unable to form a coherent thought.

Quirrell laughed again. "Oh yes, you thought it was that wretch Exanimis, didn't you? He did make himself rather unlikeable among the students, I daresay. I suppose you weren't completely wrong, though. He did come down here tonight for the stone. That stupid man has been trying to steal it all year before I could, for his own greedy purposes. But I got him in the end." A maniacal glint shone in the once-timid professor's eye.

"I-I-I don't understand." Neville said nervously. His only idea was to keep the professor talking for as long as possible, so perhaps Harry and Ron could get help.

Quirrell sighed. "I suppose I might as well tell you. Grant one last request before you die." He grinned, and Neville trembled fearfully. "My Master and I have been trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone ever since it was brought to Hogwarts at the beginning of the school year. Because Dumbledore, stupid man, put his trust in so many of the wrong people! Never did he suspect that I would steal the stone, or even that the idiot Exanimis would crave it as well."

"Y-you're both thieves!" Neville exclaimed, still slightly confused by this strange turn of events.

Quirrell laughed, patronizing Neville. "Of course not, Longbottom. Exanimis is a thief. He wants the stone so he can live forever, have unlimited gold, blah blah blah. I, on the other hand, am going to use the stone to start a new age for wizardkind."

Neville cast around for the stone, wondering if there was any possible way he could grab it. "You won't!" he yelled rashly. "I won't let you get the stone!" Neville knew in his heart he would not be able to stop the formidable wizard, but felt a need to express his anger.

Quirrell's face grew cold once again. He snapped his fingers, and ropes sprang up, wrapping themselves around Neville so he could hardly move. He toppled over and lay on the ground, fearing for his life. To Neville's great surprise, however, Quirrell simply turned around and began to walk away towards a mirror. However, it was not just any mirror. It was the Mirror of Erised! It stood propped against the far wall, its reflective surface casting bits of light around the room.

Quirrell began muttering to himself. "I see myself with the stone, and with my master… But how do I get it? It must show me where the stone is, but why can't I see it?" He appeared to be growing frustrated. Neville tried to inch sideways, so he might be able to see into the mirror behind Quirrell. He did not think he would be able to retrieve the stone from it, but only wanted a comforting glance at the lovely image he knew he would find within.

Neville began to casually slide sideways, not even a centimeter at a time. He did not want the irate professor to realize what he was doing.

Thankfully, the man was still preoccupied. "I can see the stone in the mirror, so it should appear here, but it isn't. Why isn't it appearing?"

Neville continued sliding sideways. At last, he could see himself in the mirror. To his surprise, he did not see the usual image of friends. Instead, Neville found himself watching as his mirror-image reached into his pocket and pulled out the Sorcerer's Stone. Neville was shocked. He knew he desperately wanted, and needed, to find the stone before Quirrell, but he did not imagine seeing it in the mirror. The surprise he felt, however, quadrupled as Neville felt something slightly heavy drop into his actual pocket. He dared not look at it, for he feared Quirrell might see. However, he knew it must be the stone.

The man was still pacing the room, muttering incessantly. At last, Neville heard a voice that clearly did not belong to Quirrell, for it was slightly higher and quite rough, although the person speaking had not used it in quite a while. "Use the boy!" it said in a slightly frustrated tone, its queer voice echoing off the high ceiling.

Neville looked around fearfully for the source, but could not see anyone else in the room.

Quirrell turned around, glaring at Neville, who was still sprawled on the floor. "Come here, boy!" He commanded, snapping his fingers. The ropes around Neville's feet loosened slightly so he was able to walk. Neville shuffled nervously towards the professor, trying not to quiver.

Neville stood in front of the mirror, staring into it. He could still see himself holding the stone inside.

"What do you see?" Quirrell demanded, impatient. Neville knew he must lie, must not tell the man that the stone was in his pocket at that very moment. However, he knew worse punishment might come if he was caught faking. Neville swallowed hard, making up his mind.

"I-I see myself with Harry and Ron. We're, erm, flying around on broomsticks." Neville cursed himself inwardly for such a feeble lie. Quirrell, however, did not seem to notice, for he was quite preoccupied.

The cold voice spoke again, and Neville backed away. "He is LYING!" Neville jumped, not expecting its shout. "Let me speak to him. Now!"

Quirrell shuddered slightly himself. "Master, I-I do not think you are strong enough yet. Let me get the stone first, then you may…"

"Do as I say! I am the Dark Lord, and I will be held back by no one!" Quirrell hesitated for a moment, then began to unwind his long purple turban. Neville watched raptly, utterly confused by this event. His eyes grew as wide as saucers as the turban finally fell away, revealing a grotesque human head protruding from the back of Professor Quirrell's. It was extremely pale, even more so that Quirrell himself, and its features were oddly distorted and waxy. Its eyes flashed bright red. Neville's scar burst into intense pain, and he realized who this figure must be. It was Voldemort.

"Are you surprised to see me, Neville?" Voldemort asked cruelly, laughing in his high-pitched voice. Neville tried not to look at the malicious man. "Come now Neville, why don't you give me the stone? It's right there in your pocket. It wouldn't be of much use to you anyways… Just let me have it." He stared calculatingly at Neville, who gulped and stared at the floor for a moment, trying to regain his courage.

"NEVER!" Neville shouted, now quite worked up.

"Now now, we can't have that. Come now, Neville. Join me. Give me the stone; give me my power, and together we will rule. I can see inside you, Neville. You fear that you will never live up to the magical abilities of your friends. I can teach you magic they would never see in their wildest dreams. I can give you everything, Neville Longbottom. All I need you to do is give me that stone in your pocket."

Neville felt himself trembling. Voldemort was quite persuasive, and his words had left their mark upon Neville. He briefly wondered whether perhaps he should give Voldemort the stone. Surely he would seize it anyways, and perhaps this way, Neville would escape punishment.

"Yes, Neville, that's right." The cold voice crooned, sensing that Neville's loyalties might be changing.

Neville felt his hand moving towards the pocket in which the stone resided. He took it out, preparing to hand it over. Suddenly, however, his mind went to Harry and Ron. His best friends. If Neville turned now, he would be betraying their trust, and making all their efforts to protect him futile. Neville could not make up his mind. He tried to think about what a true Gryffindor would do. His mind flashed back to the Sorting Hat song from the very beginning of the year:

_For all those folks in Gryffindor_

_Know what is right to do_

Neville pondered this line. He was a true Gryffindor, no matter what misgivings the Sorting Hat had expressed. Neville knew the right decision at last.

"No." he said quietly. Neville swallowed hard and said it louder, so Voldemort could hear. "NO!" He turned to run away with the stone.

"Get him!" He heard Voldemort shout as Neville ran for his life. Neville felt himself tripping and falling, felt himself hit the hard cold ground. The stone had rolled away, and was lying a foot to Neville's right. He reached out to grab it as Quirrell approached at a run. Their hands intercepted around the stone. Neville felt a flash of pain run through his scar, and also a sense of burning in his hand. He looked over to find Quirrell releasing the stone, his hand blistered and raw. Neville pulled the stone close, trying hard to protect it.

"You blubbering idiot, get him!" Voldemort was shouting angrily as Quirrell cried out in pain. The professor attempted to grab the stone with his other hand. Neville only had a split second to act. He grabbed hold of Quirrell's hand. It began to burn at once, and the man pulled away, staggering around the room from the pain. Voldemort was still shouting as Quirrell fell to his knees. Neville felt his vision begin to grow blurry from the pain in his scar. He hoped help would be coming, for he didn't think he could hold on any longer.

Quirrell stood up and staggered towards Neville, the festering skin of his hands hidden inside his robes. He began to run in Neville's direction, screaming. Neville was yelling as well in the chaos of the moment. He could feel Quirrell nearly upon him, the pain in his scar so fierce he had to succumb. He felt a shadow cover the room, everything was going black, Neville could not hold on any longer. He collapsed to the ground, motionless.


	19. Chapter 19: Final Moments

Neville awoke drowsily some time later, his head throbbing terribly. He tried to remember what had happened to the Sorcerer's Stone, and to Professor Quirrell, but was not able to do so. Neville could not even figure out where he was, and drifted back into a state of unconsciousness.

At last, Neville awoke for good. Though his head still hurt terrible, he no longer felt as though his brain was filled with cotton. Neville looked around groggily to find a very surprising guest by his bed; Professor Dumbledore. The man appeared to be deep in thought, and did not notice Neville's regaining of consciousness for several moments, at which point Neville had started to feel quite uncomfortable and coughed loudly. He was quite worried Dumbledore had come to expel him from Hogwarts, and thought it best to know quickly.

Dumbledore looked up at once, an expression of mirth on his lined, old face. "Awake at last, I see?" He said happily, not appearing to be even the slightest bit angry with Neville.

Relief flooded through Neville's tired body. Suddenly he remembered why he was injured in the first place, and sat up quickly. "Professor, the Stone! Professor Quirrell, he stole it!" Neville was quite worked up. Why was Dumbledore sitting calmly by a hospital bed while Quirrell and Voldemort ran free with the Sorcerer's Stone?

"Neville, Neville, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have no choice but to ask me to leave before I can answer your questions." Though Dumbledore's tone was admonishing, his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"S-sorry, Professor, I just…." Neville was not sure how to explain himself without appearing too cowardly. For a moment, he had been quite convinced of Voldemort's return, and his own surely-coming death.

"Quite understandable, Neville. Now, to answer your first question, Professor Quirrell does not have the Stone. I arrived just in time to pull him off of you. I daresay you were doing a formidable job of holding him off, though."

Neville was confused, his mind still a bit jumbled. "But Professor, how did you even know?"

"As soon as I arrived in London, I realized what must be happening. You see, Neville, I have been keeping an eye on Professor Quirrell this year, and thought he might try something like this. Alas, I was caught off guard, and did not suspect him soon enough to avoid a trip first."

"Professor, where is the Stone now?" Neville asked, still a bit fearful it could be at risk.

Dumbledore sighed. "The Stone, my dear boy, has been destroyed."

Neville gasped. "Destroyed? B-but Professor, surely it could be useful, if used for the right reasons, right?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid it might be too valuable to risk it falling into the wrong hands. The Stone belongs to my dear friend Nicolas Flamel, who is really quite old, thanks to the Stone. He and I decided together that it would be much safer to destroy such a dangerous object."

Neville pondered this for a moment. He could understand Dumbledore's thinking. "But Professor, won't Nicolas die now, without the Stone?" He felt a bit guilty, as though it was his fault the Stone had to be destroyed.

Dumbledore looked a bit sad, though he still spoke in a merry tone. "Yes, Nicolas and his wife, Perenelle, will die. But you see, Neville, they have been living for quite a long time, they have had many opportunities to do anything they wished. For them, death will be nothing but a journey to a new place. It will not be a tragic experience, but one they have been expecting for many years now. Please, do not worry."

Neville still felt guilty. "Professor, what about Professor Quirrell, what happened to him? And is You-Know-Who really gone now? Or will he come back again?" He waited restlessly for the Headmaster's reply.

"Professor Quirrell, unfortunately, died as Voldemort's soul left his body." Dumbledore paused for a moment as though honoring the man, despite his terrible deeds. "Voldemort, however," Neville winced at the name, and Dumbledore frowned slightly, but did not remark upon it, "is still quite alive, though not even I know where he is. Perhaps he is looking for another body to share, I do not know. But I can promise, Neville, that you will be safe."

Neville sighed in relief, he felt much better now. "Professor, what about Professor Exanimis?" Neville felt slightly angry just thinking about the man he loathed so deeply, but felt curious all the same.

"Ah, yes. He is recovering in St. Mungo's. Professor Quirrell did quite a number on him, but he will survive."

Neville frowned. "Professor, you know he was after the Stone… Are you going to let him come back to teach?"

Dumbledore laughed. "No, Neville, I am not. It will be quite a challenge, replacing two teachers in the same year, but it will have to be done. I have known Professor Exanimis for many years, and understood his greed, but never did I expect it to become so extreme." Dumbledore looked slightly disappointed with himself.

"Good" Neville sighed with relief, feeling much better with the news that his least favorite teacher would not be returning.

"Am I right to expect that you have more questions, Neville? Or are you tired now?" Professor Dumbledore looked a bit fretful, and Neville felt touched. He nodded.

"Professor, I-I've been wondering all year, well, before that, really… Why did You-Know-Who try to kill me when I was a baby?"

Dumbledore looked a bit put-out. "Alas, the first question you ask, I cannot answer for you. But Neville, I must tell you that it would be far better to say the name Voldemort," Neville winced again, but Dumbledore continued as though he had not. "For, if you refuse to say his name, it increases your fear."

Neville nodded, daunted by such a task. "Yes, Professor." He said meekly. "Sir, why couldn't Professor Quirrell touch me?" he was trembling slightly at the memory.

"That, Neville, I can answer." Dumbledore said happily. "You see, Neville, though Voldemort may be an extremely accomplished wizard, there is one thing he does not have, one thing he does not find important. And that is love. You, on the other hand, are filled with love. Your parents died to protect you, your father begged Voldemort to take him instead. The love they felt for you cast a lasting protection. Voldemort, whose soul has never felt love, who knows only greed and hate, could not bear to be touched by something so pure, so full of love. It may have been Professor Quirrell's body that was physically harmed, but it was because Voldemort's soul lay inside him."

Neville felt as though he understood, though love felt like quite a measly power against the powerful Voldemort. He suddenly felt extremely grateful for his parents, for he had not realized they left him such protection. "Professor, what about the Mirror? How did I get the Stone from it?" Neville asked, jumping ahead slightly.

Dumbledore smiled bashfully. "That, my boy, is one of my greater ideas, if I do say so myself. You see, the Stone would only appear to someone who sees themselves with it in the mirror. For such a thing to happen, one must not want the stone for greed or malice, but for the right reasons. Otherwise, one would only see themselves performing the act they wished to use the Stone for. I feel it's quite clever, really."

Neville nodded, agreeing. He was slightly daunted by the Professor's extreme knowledge. He could not think of any other questions at the present time. Dumbledore seemed to sense this, and stood up slowly. "I can see you are becoming tired. Please, Neville, rest." The old man walked slowly to the door as Neville fell back on his pillows, too exhausted even to think about everything Dumbledore had just told him.

Neville awoke sometime later to find the sun high in the sky. He wondered what day it was. He looked over to see Madam Pomfrey standing by the door of the hospital wing, clearly arguing with someone. Neville, who was feeling quite a bit more awake now, tried to listen. He thought he could hear Harry and Ron's voices, and felt touched. He watched Madam Pomfrey eagerly, hoping she would allow his friends to come visit. Neville saw her glance over at him, and upon finding him awake, grudgingly allowed the boys inside.

"Five minutes, that's all," she grumbled as Harry and Ron hurried towards Neville's bed, their faces full of grins.

"You're awake!" Harry said, relieved. "We thought you might not ever come around, even Dumbledore was really worried! Have you seen him yet? Ron and I saw him come to find you, what happened?" His eyes shone, hoping for a good story.

"Harry, he's just got up!" Ron laughed. "You alright, Neville?"

Neville nodded. "Sure I am," he said grinning, feeling infinitely better now that his friends had arrived. "Er, what day is it?"

"Last day!" Harry exclaimed, his voice slightly melancholy. "You'll be allowed to come to the feast tonight, won't you? Slytherin won the House Cup, of course, thanks to special treatment from Exanimis, but at least the food'll be good."

"I hope I'll be allowed!" Neville exclaimed. He did not want to miss a feast, or the opportunity to spend some time with his friends without the mystery looming over their heads.

"So what happened with you and Exanimis after you went through the wall?" Ron asked. Clearly Harry had told him everything up until that point. Neville began to explain what had happened with Exanimis and Quirrell, and how the three boys had been wrong all along about who had been helping Voldemort. Neville explained about the Mirror of Erised, and finding the Stone in his pocket. He even told Harry and Ron about the curious reaction Quirrell had felt upon touching Neville, though he did not explain why. Neville felt as though he wanted to keep that private for the moment. Harry and Ron sat silently, rapt.

"Wow!" Harry breathed when Neville had finally finished. "I can't believe-"

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "You've had much more than five minutes, now go. Neville will need to rest a bit more if he wants to go to the feast tonight."

Harry and Ron left at once, for they wanted Neville to be able to join them than night. Neville lay back on his pillows once again, not feeling very tired anymore. He had quite a bit to think about. However, before Neville knew it, he had dozed off once again.

When Neville finally woke up from his latest nap, it was beginning to grow dark outside. Neville felt nervous; was he missing the feast? Madam Pomfrey hurried over.

"Feast hasn't started yet, not to worry. I just want to do one more check-up, and then you'll be free to go, providing you don't do anything overly physical." She looked suspiciously at Neville, as though she suspected he might decide to jump off a staircase, or do something else equally as dangerous and stupid.

Neville nodded his consent, and tried to remain still as Madam Pomfrey examined him one last time. He felt quite restless. At last, she relinquished him. Neville fled the hospital wing at once, overjoyed. He hurried down a few flights of stairs and joined the mass of students heading into the Great Hall.

Neville saw a few students looking appraisingly at him as he entered, and blushed slightly, trying to find Harry and Ron. At last he spotted them sitting halfway down the Gryffindor table. They had saved Neville a seat. He hurried down to meet them.

As Neville slid into his seat at the table, he heard shouts of praise around him. Neville grinned, basking in the attention. Most of the Gryffindors were disappointed to lose the House Cup once again, but Neville was just thrilled to be alive and at the feast. Even the image a very smug Draco Malfoy could not change Neville's mood.

At last, Dumbledore rose to address the students for one last time. "Another wonderful year has come and passed us by," he said happily, looking around at all the students, "another year of fun and learning. I trust you all will spend the summer getting your heads nice and empty again for next year!" Many students laughed, and Dumbledore winked. "Now for the House points, which stand as follows: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred seventy two points." He paused as the Hufflepuff table cheered. Neville and his friends clapped politely with the rest of the Gryffindors. "In third place, Gryffindor, with four hundred and thirty five points." The Gryffindors cheered loudly, trying to ignore the fact that they had only come in third. "In second place, Ravenclaw, with four hundred and eighty points." Ravenclaw house cheered happily. "And in first place, with five hundred and ninety four points, Slytherin." Slytherin house rose to its feet, cheering noisily. Dumbledore was forced to wait several minutes before he could continue.

"However, I have some last minute points that I must give out." Dumbledore announced happily to the now-tense crowd. "To Mister Ronald Weasely, for courage in the face of danger, as well as a fantastically played game of chess, I award fifty points." Gryffindor house burst into cheers as Ron blushed scarlet, even his ears became bright red. However, Dumbledore was not done. "To Mister Harry Potter, for heartfelt encouragement despite all odds, as well as impressive use of pure intellect, I award fifty points." Gryffindor house cheered once again and Harry grinned, trying not to appear overly excited. Dumbledore began to speak yet again. "And to Neville Longbottom, for bravery despite all signs of danger, I award fifty points." Gryffindor house cheered once more as Neville looked around, astonished. He had never earned fifty points before! The Gryffindor students who were proficient in mathematics began whispering that Gryffindor was almost tied with Slytherin! Was there any possible way they could earn just a few more points? It seemed as though Dumbledore had finished. However, as the students began to quiet down once again, Dumbledore spoke. "Finally, to Miss Hermione Granger, for her help despite a great many misgivings, I award ten points." Neville looked down the table to find a bashful Hermione, grinning happily as the house cheered loudly. Thanks to her, they had won the cup!

Neville greatly enjoyed celebrating with the rest of Gryffindor house during the rest of the feast, and well into the night back in the common room. Neville was up very late packing, but he did not mind. He didn't want to miss a minute of the fun.

Neville awoke the next morning to find a dreary day outside. He felt as though the weather was reflecting the mood of the castle; all the students appeared a little down that the school year was ending. Though Harry, Ron, and Neville still had a wonderful time on the way back to London and the Muggle world, everything felt a bit subdued. The three boys spent the train ride home practicing some of their spells, for they knew they would be prohibited to do so once they arrived home, much to everyone's chagrin.

Neville felt like only a moment passed before the train slid into Platform 9 ¾. He could see the crowd of parents and siblings standing on the platform, craning for a look onto the train. Neville spotted his grandmother talking to a smiling James Potter, and nudged his friend, grinning.

"You two'll have to come over and visit this summer," Ron invited, already dreaming about the fun they could have. "We can play Quidditch with my brothers, maybe."

Harry and Neville nodded. "You'll have to come to my house too!" Harry said excitedly. "I dunno what we'll do, but I bet we can find something." He said, grinning mischievously.

Neville, blushed, feeling as though he really ought to extend an invitation to his own house now. "Well, my gran's pretty strict, but she'd probably let you come over. Might not be too much fun, though." He said a bit sadly.

"That's alright Neville, you'll just have to come see Ron and I all the time," Harry said, not at all put-out at the thought. "Come on, let's go!"

He led the way off the crowded train and into the horde of excited parents. Neville and Ron followed behind, dragging their trunks. Neville was reflecting upon his first year at Hogwarts. There had been several parts that were not very good, but overall he felt it had been a fantastic year. Neville was prepared for a summer away from Hogwarts, for he knew that he would be returning in no time at all.

* * *

I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to all those who stuck with me as I wrote my first ever fanfiction. I had a couple struggles along the way, and it probably wasn't the best fanfiction ever, but thanks so much for reading anyways! Also, a very special thank you to everyone who left a review for me, I really enjoyed hearing what you had to say.

Book Two has now been started, please check it out if you enjoyed Book One!


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